


Dying to Connect

by AChar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2572142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AChar/pseuds/AChar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco returns to Hogwarts for his eighth year. He is depressed and self-loathing, and his emotions come to a head when Harry Potter steps in, to save his life, again. He tries to ignore his feelings for Harry, but Harry refuses to be leave him alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.  
> AN: This will be a Drarry story, however, it is a slow build.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.  
> This chapter is a prologue set-up chapter. The whole story will be more of a slow-build type-thing.  
> Follow my tumblr, potter-is-mine.tumblr.com for updates and more drarry and wolfstar stuff.

Draco POV

I jolted awake to the blaring of an alarm- my alarm. My brain sluggishly caught up to the present as I assessed my surroundings. My legs tangled up in cotton sheets, my bed and nightstand the only furnishings in the sparse bedroom. A lamp resides on the stand beside me, along with an alarm clock and glass of water. Still half asleep, I look around for my wand before I remember; right... no magic. Muggle house, muggle objects, boring pseudo muggle life. I can do this, I tell myself. It's only for a short while.

I slowly roll out of bed, grabbing my pants that I had thrown on the floor in my haste the night previous, and head for the bathroom. Yesterday seemed like a dream; so much anxiety and changes had taken place that when I finally arrived in this wretched muggle "sanctuary", all I could think about was how much I wanted to sleep so I could forget the events of the day. But sleep only offered a brief reprieve, and now it was time to face the music.

Everything was different here, but I knew I had to stay, at least temporarily. I was sent here, to a magic-less safe-house yesterday, a mere week and a half into the summer- 'for your own safety', is what McGonagall said. Sure, it would be safe until I offed myself from boredom, or frustration, or worry, or any of the other hostile emotions rolling around in my skull. Not to mention- the ministry had taken my wand after Potter had returned it to me after my trial- they said I couldn't be trusted. Now I was left in a muggle town somewhere far away from the Manor, defenseless, magic-less, and hopeless.

And I was scared.

Even though I had been freed of all charges made against me, I was still known to the common public as a former Death Eater. The "good side" of the war had won, and the tables had turned for the Malfoys. Where before we were respected, feared, and well known, now we were scorned and held in low regard. My father being sent to Azkaban didn't help either- the previous head of the family, who usually set fear in the hearts of any opposing families, was now in prison, left to rot, a smear on the Malfoy name. With my father's absence, rival families of the Malfoys took the opportunity to gain power politically and financially, bumping the Malfoy family out of its previous position of power, fame, and fortune. Everyone 'wronged' by my father jumped at the opportunity to spit on us, and now I was the one left to clean up the mess. Merlin knows my father would be of no help any longer.

And despite all this, I couldn't wrap my mind around a future, alone, without my father to guide me and tell me what to do. I knew it should've felt freeing, not having to serve anyone or obey the every whim of a man who tortured muggles for fun, but somehow all I can feel is lonely. And every night, my subconscious likes to remind me why. I'm constantly tortured with what ifs and if onlys, regrets and self hatred. If I had only been a bit more brave, I wouldn't be living this life.

I laugh darkly to myself as I walk into the bathroom. If I had only been a bit more like Potter, perhaps I wouldn't be damned.

~0~

\--Two Days Earlier--

"See, Draco? That wasn't nearly as awful as you thought it would be. We were both acquitted, and now we can go home. Why are you pouting?" Mother asks as we walk out of the ministry's level 10 Wizengamot Courtrooms and up the stairs to level 9.

"I'm not--" I sigh, too tired to really protest. "Its nothing, Mother. I'm just tired. I want to go home." I mumble down to my feet as we walked towards the elevators. I was confused- I had just stood on trial, fully expecting to be sentenced life in prison for being a Death Eater and making an attempt on Dumbledore's life, but then Potter had walked in. Little did I know, he had just stood trial for my mother, telling the panel of witches and wizards that she had saved his life in the Forbidden Forest, and that she deserved to be released. Being the Chosen One, the Wizengamot immediately decided that his word was above any charge, and so she was pardoned of her involvement with the Dark Lord.

My eyes had nearly popped out of my head when Potter walked into the courtroom holding my trial, and I wasn't the only one. Half the people in the room stood gaping, at a loss for words. He entered the courtroom with a determined look on his face, like he knew he would be fighting a near-impossible battle, a trial more complicated than that of my mother. I was the son of the Dark Lord's right-hand man, after all. I had the dark mark, I had let the Death Eaters into the school. I still didn't understand why he had bothered to come at all.

So there he had stood, testifying to the Wizengamot of my innocence, and demanding my immediate release. He told them I couldn't be blamed for my involvement with the Dark Lord- if I had not complied with his demands, he said, my family and my own life would have been in great danger.

"Draco only became a Death Eater to save the lives of his family members and himself- had you been in the same position, don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same. And I stand witness to the night of Dumbledore's death- Draco lowered his wand. He did not kill Dumbledore, nor did he have any real intention to kill him. It was only under Voldemort's threats did he make such a feeble attempt on Dumbledore's life." Everyone in the courtroom cringed when Potter said the Dark Lord's name, but he continued on with his argument, as I sat watching him in awe. The savior of the Wizarding world, come to save me. I couldn't believe what he was doing, and knew that I would forever be in debt to him. I could probably never repay it though, it wasn't like the Chosen One would even want to be around a former Death Eater. This was probably just Potter being his noble hero self, his conscience unable to let him watch me be sent to rot in prison with my father. Ha.

Despite many protests and grumblings among the Wizengamot panel, the final verdict was in my favor. With Harry Potter's testimony, I couldn't be sent to prison, due to the ministry's hesitance to defy the Savior of the Wizarding World, to whom they owed a great deal.

I left the courtroom when dismissed, Potter staying behind to talk to someone on the panel. For an autograph no doubt, I think to myself humorlessly. Outside, sitting on a bench, is my mother, shivering from the dementors' chill in the hall. She gets up and hugs me when I approach, and I am infinitely grateful for the warmth her arms provide.

Before my mother or I can step into the elevator on level 9, there is a shout of, "Draco, wait!" and rapid footsteps approaching from behind. I turn around, and there stands Potter in all his Gryffindor glory, pink-faced from exertion. I raise my eyebrows, curious as to what he could possibly want to say to me, of all people.

"I wanted to return this to you, now that you're able to go home. I don't know why I kept it for so long." He says, out of breath, as he reaches in his pocket and pulls out my wand. I take it from him, half-smiling. I had never really expected to see my wand again, never mind hold it and feel the magic thrumming through it and into my fingers again. 

"Thanks, Potter," I said while still looking down at my wand. His feet shuffle a bit before he replies.

"Yeah, its no problem. And you can call me Harry- we aren't enemies anymore. I think its best to leave the past behind us." He says earnestly, an intense look on his face. His brows are drawn in, his eyes willing me to understand.

"Alright. Harry." He smiles a sad little smile when I say his name, looking relieved that I didn't rebuff his offer of friendship. And wasn't that just fifty shades of ironic. "And thanks for testifying for me today, too. I thought for sure I was Azkaban's next inmate." He nods with that same little smile at this, turning his eyes down to his shoes.

"Yeah. Um, you're welcome. I meant what I said, about fresh starts. I don't blame you anymore. The war is over now, and its time for new beginnings." I'm surprised by this; I had thought he would be the first one to point fingers at former Death Eaters. Potter is all full of surprises recently, though; I should hardly be surprised. 

I hold my tongue from delivering a snide retort about who in this equation needed forgiveness, going for something a bit less likely to set Potter off."Yeah, I agree. Thanks again." At this my mother clears her throat behind me, where I had forgotten she stood. I sigh and turn back to Potter. "I have to go. Bye, P--Harry." My hesitancy to say his name is obvious, almost embarrassing. It was a force of habit to call him Potter, or Potty, which was far more amusing of a name.

"Bye," He says with a smirk that speaks of secrets and spins around, gracelessly strolling back down the stairs to the courtrooms. I watch him go, unsure of what I was feeling towards the dark-haired wizard.

"He's returning to Hogwarts next year, you know." My mother interrupts my internal ponderings, and I turn back around to her, walking with her into the elevator. The door slams closed, and I grab the rope above my head as the elevator abruptly hurtles backwards, and then up.

"Is he?" I ask in return to my mother's statement, and she rolls her eyes at my ignorance of apparently publicly-known information.

"Of course. You could too, you know. I heard that once Hogwarts renovations and repairs are complete, they will be opening the school again this upcoming school year, with McGonagall as Headmistress. Last year's seventh years are being asked to return for an eighth year, because the war and the circumstances prevented proper education to be delivered to the students. The "Eighth Years", so to speak, are required to return in order to graduate. Obviously some students, like yourself, need not really graduate, as its pointless anyways, but it could be worth it to see your friends and complete your education anyways." I think about Hogwarts for a moment, and I wonder if I would really want to return. It had been the setting for many of my nightmares in the past couple weeks, and I knew that even if I got the best grades of my year I wouldn't be able to get a job. Not that I could get the best grades of my year, what with Granger and all, but still. Any known Death Eaters were denied jobs now, for the obvious reasons.

"I don't know, mum. It would be nice to see Blaise again, but would it be worth another year at Hogwarts?" I ask contemplatively.

"It could be good for you. It would be a stress-free year, and I doubt most of the Slytherins in your year will be returning, save for the few not aligned with the Dark Lord. And I know how much you love Potions- another year of it could be fun. You will probably get a Hogwarts letter by owl sometime soon anyways, if you really are allowed to return, so you can worry about it then." We walk out of the elevator onto the level for floo entrance and exit, but before we can go towards the fireplaces, a heavy hand grabs my shoulder from behind.

I turn around, and face a middle-aged man in Ministry garb. His hair is grey, his eyebrows bushy, with a matching bushy grey mustache. He scowls at me, his mustache ruffled and looking as unhappy as the rest of him does. He releases my shoulder and I take a small step backward.

"You are Mr. Malfoy, correct?" He asks gruffly.

"Yes, sir." I state, a bit unnerved by his look of contempt.

"I am here to confiscate your wand. You have been acquitted of any crime, but the Ministry will continue to keep watch of you. You are not allowed a wand until further notice. The Ministry fears you are a danger and any magic you use may be a risk." He smirks at me, aware of how shocked and indignant I feel. The silver name tag pinned to his left breast pocket says 'Kennedy' in curling letters.

"But sir, this must be a mistake. Draco is not a danger- Harry Potter testified at his trial!" My mother exclaims, her eyebrows drawn in, making a frustrated crease in between them.

His eyes hold the purest hate."This is no mistake, Miss. It's policy. We will continue to monitor your son until further notice. If he decides to return to Hogwarts, his wand will be returned once he returns to the school. Until then, he must refrain from magic usage and only travel by floo." He reaches down and grabs my wand out of my hand, snarling nastily when I start to protest. "You may leave now. Thank you for your cooperation." He snickers at my shocked expression as he turns to walk away.

My mother grabs my arm and pulls me along, to the floo chambers. As we step in I hear her say, "Malfoy Manor", and then we are whisked away in green flame.

I step out of the fireplace after my mother, gracefully entering the room without stumbling from the abrupt landing. There is a fine layer of dust over everything and the smell of stale air permeates the room we entered, left unused during our absence. The house feels cold and lonely without my father, but less tense.

I follow my mother into the sitting room, and almost call for a house elf before I remember that all our elves were dismissed when my father, mother, and myself were taken into ministry custody. It explained why the house looked so unused, and posed a definite inconvenience when it came to cooking or cleaning.

My mother passed through the sitting room, headed towards the dining room. I hesitate outside the door, remembering the horrors I had seen in that room and unwilling to evoke those memories in full force. I mentally add "Burn the dining table," to my to-do list.

I sigh and steel myself, walking through the doorway at the same time as I hear a shriek. Inside the dining room I see my mother, a wand to her throat, held by a man in a black cloak and a Death Eater's mask. We are separated by the length of the dining table, a dark expanse between me and my worst nightmare. "Draco, run!" my mother shouts, but I hesitate. I am defenseless and wand-less, but I couldn't just leave her there to be taken or killed by an angry Death Eater hell-bent on following a master who would never return. My cowardice had always been my downfall. "Draco, NOW!" she shouts, as she rears her head back into the masked-man's face, her elbow aiming for his throat. He releases her with a shout and brings his hands up to his throat, gagging for air.

My mother runs toward me, and I turn around and run through the sitting room into the room with the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, I step into the fireplace. "Go, Draco!" she yells from a couple feet behind me. I turn around facing the room, throw my powder down and yell, "Diagon Alley!" on impulse. Before I am whisked away in the green flame, I see my mother running towards me. The crack of apparition rings through the still air, and a cloaked figure suddenly appears between her and the fireplace. My scream is cut off as I am wrenched into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from writing this.

\---Chapter 1---

I stumble out of the fireplace into a dark shop. The doors are closed, and the shop is vacant. I unlock the shop door and run out into the street, but there is not a soul to be seen. I consider going to the Ministry, but decide against it- why would they help two former Death Eaters? So, as a last resort, I head to King's Cross station. Hogwarts, it is.

~~~~0~~~~~~

My legs wobble a bit as I stepped of the train headed to Hogsmeade.

My brain is swimming with anxiety-- What's happening to my mother? Is she ok? What if I had already taken too long to get help... and she was dead? I cringe at the thought- I couldn't go there. Without my mother, I would have no one. I would be well and truly alone.

My steps come quicker with the thought of my mother, and soon I am in town, stepping through the (thankfully) open doors of the Three Broomsticks.

"Good lord, boy. Its nearly midnight! What're the likes 'a you doin' out at this ungodly hour?" The barkeep asks gruffly, as I head to the bar. He is wiping down a glass with an off-white rag. His rough voice matches the rest of his appearance- rough, unkempt, like he didn't change his clothes or trim his hair as often as he should.

"I'm a Hogwarts student, sir. I need to contact Headmistress McGonagall- is there a chance you could lend me an owl?" I asked, the words pouring out in a rush.

"A 'course... so long as you buy a room for the night. Can't be givin' our services for free, now can we?" He chuckles at his joke and turns away, probably assuming I would have no money for a room. I dig in my robe pockets desperately, pulling out a handful of galleons.

"Fine. I'll take it."

He turns around with a mild look of surprise on his face."Ya sure,son? Alright, lemme get you a key. Room 6 should be fine." He hands me a key from under the counter, and I hand him the money.

He resumes wiping a beer glass with his rag, saying, "The owl will be up soon. You go up 'n get settled."

I nod my thanks, and head upstairs to my room.

Upon entering, I realize I had been given a small, dusty room, paint peeling up from the floor. A bed sits in the center of the room, looking sad, sagging in the middle. I go sit down on the mattress, noting the lack of other furniture in the room.

I sit there for a while after taking off my shoes, realizing I had left all my belongings at home, and had no wand to summon or conjure up some clean clothes or a toothbrush.

I sigh in annoyance, before I feel guilty- I remember that I am here for mother, who is in much worse circumstances. This is no time for petty selfish needs.

A sharp tapping comes from the window behind me, and I roll over to the other side of the bed and get up, before opening the window. A tawny brown eagle owl flies in, reminding me much of my own owl who I had used to have at home.

The owl squawks in annoyance, impatiently holding out the leaf of blank parchment, waiting for me to take it.

"Alright, alright. Sorry, I have no treats for you." I say as I untie the parchment and self-inking quill enclosed.

I sit down on the floor and begin to write.

"Headmistress,

I am sorry for contacting you so early before the school year, but it is urgent.

After returning from the Ministry tonight, my mother and I were ambushed at the Manor. There was at least one Death Eater that I saw, but I was unable to identify him.

I was able to floo to Diagon Alley before they grabbed me, but my mother was not so lucky. He appeared in front of her before she could escape, and appeared to apparate with her away from the grounds.

I am currently staying in The Three Broomsticks, as I cannot return to the Manor for fear that there are still Death Eaters there. I have enough gold to last at least a couple weeks here, since I have nowhere else to go, and I am assuming that I will be allowed to return to Hogwarts at the end of the summer. I can wait until then.

I am asking that you could contact the Ministry or in some way help me find my mother- I hate to think that she is all alone, likely injured and frightened.

I wouldn't be asking if it weren't urgent.

-Draco Malfoy"

Tying the letter to the owl, I open the window and it flies out, slowly becoming smaller as it disappears in the night sky.

The exhaustion of the day finally catches up to me, and I slump down onto the bed, already half asleep.

The last thing that crosses my mind before sleep overcomes me is the day of the battle at Hogwarts, when Potter- Harry, had saved me from the fiendfyre.

I could still smell the smoke, and feel the fear I had felt in that moment, so sure that Potter and Weasley would leave us behind, to die. I would have, if I were them.

Greg had died that day, in the Room of Hidden Things. Him and Vince had felt more like minions, but it felt like such a waste. He had died for nothing. For a silly madman who had us all convinced he was a god. 

I think of all those who I had seen die, all those who had died for nothing… and all those who I could have saved.

I fall asleep feeling sad, and guilty, without really knowing why.

~0~

I am awoken by loud, hoarse screams. It takes me a moment to get my bearings before I realize they are mine, and I cut them off abruptly. The following silence rings loudly in my ears.

My whole body is shaking with tremors, my hair dripping with sweat. Another nightmare.

Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, and even before then, when the Dark Lord was still living in my house, I had been experiencing nightmares where I often awoke screaming in fear, panicking that my dream was reality.

I calm myself with deep breaths and I try to clear my mind. I recall the nightmare that woke me up a few moments ago; It was of Dumbledore, his face when I had disarmed and threatened to kill him. It was a sad resignation, as if he knew he was going to die, and had already accepted it. But I didn't want to kill him. I couldn't.

And then a flash of green light, and Dumbledore was falling, dead before he hit the ground.

The image still haunted me, along with intense guilt. I had almost killed him. But Snape had done it before I could succeed, and now he, too, was dead.

It was like everyone I had ever loved was dead or disappeared.

I am pulled out of my thoughts when a sharp tapping against the window catches my attention. It is the owl, returned, and holding a rolled-up piece of parchment in its talons.

I open the window to let it in, and it holds out its leg. I take the letter, and before I can bid my thanks, it flies off back through the open window. No reply needed, I guess.

I notice that the parchment feels a bit heavier than usual in my hand, and as I unroll the parchment, a small silver button slides out into my hand. I put it down on the bed and start to read the letter.

"Draco,

I have contacted someone in the Ministry whom I trust with this situation. I trust they will be unbiased. There have been murmurings of neo-Death Eaters trying to reform their army throughout the Ministry. We think these Death Eaters are responsible for kidnapping your mother. They are likely angry that you and your mother were acquitted, or perhaps they think you betrayed them because of your ties to Potter. It is also possible that this is a way for them to get back at your father for a past grudge or revenge. Either way, we will seek justice in this matter.

I am sorry to hear of your inconvenience, and I understand why you must not return to the Manor. However, you cannot stay at The Three Broomsticks any longer- you are lucky that these Death Eaters have not found you there yet. Hogsmeade is precisely where they would expect you go, since Hogwarts is your only other home.

That in mind, I enclose a portkey in this letter. At exactly 10 a.m. today the portkey will activate and transport you to a safe house. Shortly following will be a Ministry official, who will explain some things to you. Aurors will be sent to the Manor to retrieve your school items and other essentials.

Best of luck, Draco, and I will see you when school recommences. "

There was no signature, but I knew who it was from, and was grateful. I was sure McGonagall was going through a lot of trouble for me and my mother.

I settle back into the bed and lean my back against the headboard.

All there was to do now was sit and wait until 10 a.m.

~0~

I land roughly in front of a small grey house, barely a shack in comparison to the grandness of the Manor.

I look around, and note the many small houses of varying colors and state of wear that line the sides of the street, much like the one I stood in front of. I turned back facing the house and head up the three steps that lead to a sun-bleached blue front door. The door opens soundlessly without protest when I turned the knob, finding it unlocked.

The inside was just as simple and basic as the outside was; there were two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a main greeting room. Some odd items were placed throughout the rooms, such as a small black box on the nightstand in one of the rooms, and lamps that were connected to the wall. There was also a weird looking box in the kitchen, this one white, with a glass door that let you look inside. I had seen something like it in our Muggle Studies textbook a couple years ago at Hogwarts, but to see it in tangible form was different. I backed out of the room slowly, afraid of what the object would do if I looked at it for too long.

A few hours later, when I am sitting in the front greeting room, I hear someone open the door.

A ministry official walks in, looking about as exhausted as I feel. She hangs up her coat on the coat rack just inside the front door, and turns to me.

"Hello, my name is Jel Parsons and I will be staying here with you for the remainder of this week. I am here to answer any questions you may have as well as explain to you why you are here and what you should expect from the rest of the summer."

I nod, and she continues.

"A ministry worker will switch off with me next week, and this will happen every week until the rest of the summer. You are not allowed to use magic while you are here. You are in a muggle town, and this is an unplottable safe house that the Ministry uses for fugitives or those in witness protection. You will be safe while you are here, and no one will be able to find you."

She starts to walk into the kitchen, and so I follow. She begins to explain the workings and purposes of all the muggle objects in the house, passing through each room.

"At the end of the summer a Ministry worker will come to take you to Hogwarts. You will be safe there for the remainder of the investigation. We are doing all that we can to find your mother." She smiles kindly to me, the first real emotion I had seen on her face since she had walked in.

"Thank you," I whisper. She directs me to my room, hands me some blankets and a toothbrush from a hall closet, and bids me good night. I stand staring at her back as she walks to the room she would be staying in, the blankets still in my hand.

This was going to be a nightmare, I just knew it.

Again, I wake abruptly from a nightmare. I turn to my alarm clock and see it is barely one in the morning. This time my nightmare was from sixth year, in the bathroom with Potter. My hand traces down the scar he gave me, stretching from my collarbone to the opposite hip. Its edges are raised, and still an angry pink. Magical scars never manage to heal the same as non-magical injuries.

I can still feel the sharp slash of pain as the spell hit me, feel the blood just pouring out of my body. I can still hear Potter's shout, feel his hands on me as I bled to death under his eyes.

I can hear the screams of those who had it much worse than me, too. Those who weren't as lucky.

I fall back into the bed, exhausted still but knowing I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, not with the faces of the dead and tortured haunting me.

I sit in the heavy darkness and consider all my past failures and mistakes, instances where I should've stood my ground and didn't. I almost wished Voldemort had killed me when he could've.

I let myself sink deeper into self destructive thoughts, the depression slowly rising up until I am swallowed whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr (potter-is-mine.tumblr.com) for more updates and drarry.
> 
> Now we are caught up to where the story started in the beginning of the prologue. Next chapter Draco returns to Hogwarts, and we see Harry again.
> 
> Thank you to those who have read/reviewed, it is much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I knew how to make text italicized in AO3 lol. Oh well.  
> Please let me know if I made any mistakes in writing, I don't have a beta. Thanks

\---Chapter 2---

The rest of the summer passes in a daze. Every day I ask for news on my mother, and every day there is none.

Each week a new Ministry official comes in and introduces themselves, but I can't find it within me to remember their names.

Most of my time is spent in bed, staring at the white walls, watching my life deteriorate before my eyes. Most days I don't leave the bed, and I often forget to eat.

When in bed I think of the war, and of my mother, and my father, Dumbledore, even Fred Weasley... The list goes on endlessly.

The last and most recurring name on my list of regrets is Harry Potter. I had been so cruel, so childish. We were only products of the same war, doomed to be enemies. It made me more sad than it probably should have.

~0~

I receive my Hogwarts summons letter a week before school starts. 

The weeks ministry official brings me to Diagon Alley for supply shopping, but I don't need much. I just end up staring blankly into the Quidditch supply shop window, reminding me of yet another thing I had been a failure at. 

My father had taught me how to fly. He had been so proud when he saw me play at school, winning countless matches against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. But he always told me how much it would mean if I beat Harry Potter. Beating Harry Potter had been a main goal of mine for most of my formative youth. It all seemed so ridiculous now.

We return to the safe house a couple hours later.

~0~

Boarding the Hogwarts express is unnerving. The last time I had been on this train I had thought would be my last, yet here I am again. With less friends but heavier shoulders. I find an empty booth and plop down on the bench, resting my head against the window and closing my eyes.

The door of my compartment is whipped open with a resounding SLAM, and my head snaps up to stare at the intruder.

Pansy and Blaise stroll in, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I had wanted to be left alone, undisturbed.

"Drake, we haven't heard from you all summer! I had to hear from the Prophet, of all places, that you and your mother had been acquitted!" Pansy whines loudly.

Blaise, quiet as always, sits down across from me and crosses his legs, looking mildly bored. His eyes are sharp, though, and miss nothing.

"It's a long story, Pans." I mutter, wanting her to go away so I could sleep. Apparently this wish was in vain, because as soon as I go to rest my head back on the window, Pansy plunks down heavily beside me and grabs my arm. Her fingernails are long and polished, sharp as talons.

"We have the whole train ride, Draco. Tell us why you've been neglecting us!"

Blaise smirks across from me but says nothing, apparently not as concerned as Pansy with my supposed "neglect".

I sigh, coming to terms with the apparent impossibility of getting some sleep. I steel myself for a long, highly energetic conversation, before beginning to explain the events of my summer with Pansy pitching in a question or exclamation every sentence or two.

I look at Pansy with her big, sympathetic eyes, and choose instead to look out the window into the corridor of the train.

Blaise chuckles at something Pansy says, but stays otherwise silent. Pansy launches into another round of questions that I answer grudgingly, apparently oblivious to my disinterest in the conversation.

A flash of dark hair catches my eye from down the corridor, and as I watch, Potter comes into view with Weasley and Granger. Seeing Granger again spikes another wave of guilt- was I wrong about her, too? I wasn't sure anymore what was right or wrong. I knew now that Father's teachings concerning pure bloods and mudbloods were wrong, but Granger had been so snobbish since we were kids. 

Nothing so dumb as blood status mattered now. I watch her, feeling guilty for calling her Mudblood all those times. It feels better remembering the time she punched me in third year. I laugh sadly to myself, making sure to inject a bit of self loathing in it before turning my eyes back to Potter.

That's the moment Potter decides to turn his head towards my compartment. He catches me looking at him and smiles, shocking me entirely.

"Drake? Draco, I asked you a question!"

I turn back to Pansy and try to mask my confusion, and ask her to repeat the question. I nod along, all while thinking of a certain pair of shockingly green eyes.

~0~

Upon arrival at my dorm in the newly re-purposed Eighth years floor of the castle, I unpack slowly. On either side of me Blaise and Theodore Nott each unpack by their respective beds. A perk of being an eighth year was only having two roommates rather than three, like previous years. That might also be due to the lack of other Slytherin boys, though, I think to myself.

This year, only nine Slytherins had returned as eighth years. Half the Slytherin seventh years had returned, and surprisingly few sixth years had returned. The younger Slytherin years seemed unaffected by the war, besides the few who had been the youngest members of known Death Eater families.

Besides myself, there were only four other Slytherin boy eighth years returned. Pansy, I knew, had to share a room with Astoria Greengrass and the twin girls whose names I had never learned. The four of them were the only Slytherin girls who had returned for an eighth year. I was surprised that Astoria had returned, but rumor had it that her and her younger sister's parents had been killed in the war and they were now living with distant relatives who'd had no known connection to the Dark Lord or his associates. .

The castle had been renovated over the summer, all repairs made to fix all damages after the war. Hogwarts had been restored to its previous glory, and another section of the castle had even been added, specifically with the eighth years in mind.

All four houses with eighth year students were housed on the same floor, with four separate dorms for each house and one common room. It was odd, having to move out of the dungeons, but it was even more odd entering the common room to see Gryffindors.

My limbs feel heavy with exhaustion; I idly wonder why, as I hadn't really done much all day. I finish unpacking and sit down on my bed, thoughts of sleep already entering my mind.

Pansy runs into our dorm yelling, causing Theodore to jump and run for cover behind his bed.

"Drake! Blaise! Did you see? We get our own bathrooms!" She shrieks. I cover my ears and turn to bury my face in my pillow.

Blaise responds for the both of us, "We haven't had the chance to look, Pans." Pansy leaps onto Blaise's bed, apparently hunkering down for an in-depth conversation.

"Theo!" Blaise shouts, his attention turned to the other boy. "What, are you afraid of girls or something?"

Theo blushes and walks around his bed, sitting on it so he was facing Pansy and Blaise. "No, of course not. Just a bit surprised to see her in the dorm, I guess. I do sleep here, mate."

"Not naked, I hope." Blaise says with that signature smirk of his. He's just trying to capitalize off of Theo's embarrassment, I can tell, but nonetheless Theo coughs awkwardly and looks down into his lap, seemingly searching for a response but coming up empty.

Pansy giggles and Theo blushes a deeper shade of pink. I groan into my pillow before deciding I could no longer stay in my dorm to listen to such dull conversation. I wave behind me to the room's occupants as I leave, with only a brief complaint from Pansy as to why I was leaving.

Without bothering to respond, I head towards the common room.

The common room looks nothing at all like the common room in the Slytherin dungeons- it had the colors of all the houses, and was more light and open, more welcoming.

I didn't particularly care for the change of decor, but I didn't care about much lately anyways.

I make my way to the portrait hole entrance- the idea taken from the Gryffindor dormitories, Pansy had told me- and pass by a few Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors sitting on the couches.

There had been many more returned eighth years from the other three houses this year, outnumbering the Slytherins by far. Normally I would find discomfort from being at such a disadvantage, but I couldn't find it in myself to really care.

Absently, I notice that a couple of the Gryffindors on the couches include the Weasel and Granger, and this leads me to wonder where Potter was. Not that I really cared, or anything.

I shake my head to dismantle the thoughts of Harry as I step through the portrait hole and into the corridor.

I wander aimlessly for a half-hour or so, finding myself somewhere near (where I presumed to be, due to the Gryffindor traffic I had seen in this area in previous years) the Gryffindor dorms. I see a couple of figures turn around the corner towards me, and for reasons unknown, I duck into a pitch-dark adjacent corridor. I'm acting like a criminal, I berate myself silently. I am about to walk back out into the main corridor, the other occupants be damned, but pause when I hear a voice.

"Listen, Ginny, I just think maybe we should take a break." I cover my mouth to conceal my abrupt intake of breath. It was Potter outside the corridor, and he was breaking up with the girl-Weasel. My eyes are wide, the shock almost too much for me to take.

"Wait- what? What do you mean, Harry?"

"You know, see other people. I just think that after the war and everything, we each need time to be ourselves again. I don't think jumping back into a relationship would be the best thing for us."

I hear the girl-Weasel's watery intake of breath, and when she speaks, her voice is strained, as if she were holding back tears. "No, Harry… you can't do this! I thought… but...I love you." Her voice cracks on the last word.

"And I love you too, Ginny… I just think that this isn't the best thing for us. There's just a lot for me to come to terms with, and I need to be alone for awhile, without the stress of a relationship hanging over my head." Harry's voice is completely calm. He speaks in a low, soothing manner, trying to calm the she-Weasel before she breaks into hysterics.

His efforts go mostly wasted though, as I hear her break into muffled, hoarse sobs. I almost feel bad for her, but for some reason can't quite.

Her words come out in shaky stutters. "Is this… is this because of him? I've heard- Is it because of-"

Harry interrupts her in a rush, seemingly hurrying to stop her from completing the sentence. "No, no Ginny. This is just me. We just need time to be separate, for a while. I promise."

I can't help but feel annoyed that he had interrupted her before I could find out what she was saying. Him? Who could she have meant? His godfather, maybe? Black's birthday would be coming up soon, after all. I ponder.

It is quiet for a few moments, the girl- Ginny, I remind myself that it is rude to call people demeaning nick-names-- calming her sobs until they are just whimpers.

Finally, Harry speaks. "Are you alright, Gin?"

She sniffles and murmurs a weak, "Yeah, I guess. Don't know what I'm gonna tell Mum though, she'll probably be more upset than me." They both share a sad laugh.

I hear footsteps, and assume they head back the way they had come. I risk a peek around the corner, and see that the hall is deserted.

Quickly I turn the corner and head down the hall, away from the Gryffindor tower.

Filch stops me as I am headed towards the Slytherin dungeons, for old time's sake, I had told myself.

"Jus' been by the Headmistress… want's t' see you. Best hurry along, don't want to be out past bedtime…" He shows his teeth in an awkward impression of a smile and limps off, his cat following behind him.

Sighing, I turn around, and make my way towards the Headmistresses office.

~0~

McGonagall greets me with a hug, surprisingly, when I walk into her office.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. I have been expecting your visit. Sit, please." She walks behind her desk and takes a seat just as I do. When I am seated in front of her with my hands in my lap, she offers me a sweet of some sort from a glass bowl. I had only been to the Head's office once or twice when Dumbledore was Headmaster, but I did notice that she had changed the kind of sweets in the glass bowl. Probably a painful memory, for her. She likely doesn't want to seem as if she is trying to replace him, I reason.

I decline gracefully, and wait for her to get to the reason of the visit.

"Draco, I have summoned you here to discuss your mother." I nod, and she continues. "As you know, I have contacted the Ministry with your case. They have so far made a great effort into locating your mother's whereabouts, but have not made much headway."

I brace myself for bad news, but McGonagall just smiles tightly and continues talking.

"As of yesterday, more Aurors have been called to join in this case. It is the biggest case so far since the war, you know. Everyone wants to catch these Death Eaters, so of course they are trying their hardest to search. And by finding them, hopefully they will also locate your mother."

My shoulders sag with relief. This was the most promising news I had heard for months. I had worried that the aurors on the case wouldn't have much motivation to search for Lucius Malfoy's wife, but upon hearing they weren't giving up, a large weight is lifted off my shoulders.

"I wanted to update you on the case, is all. I am in contact with the Minister himself, who is greatly interested in your mother's case. The men who they think have taken captive your mother are infamous murderers, and have escaped justice for far too long." At this she stands, and offers me her hand.

"Thank you, Headmistress. For letting me know. I am grateful that you have gone to such measures to help me." I take her hand, her grasp tight.

"We hold no ill will for you, Draco. Your father is gone, and you have a chance to remake yourself, and your name. You can live how you desire, now."

My eyes fill with moisture at her words, the hope and gratitude in my chest overwhelming. She seems to understand my inability to speak, because she releases my hand and pats my shoulder affectionately before ushering me to the door.

"You must get back before curfew, now. Can't get in trouble your first day back!" She laughs and turns back into her office. I wave as I descend the steps, feeling lighter than I have in months.

~0~

When I enter my shared dorm I see Theo haphazardly strewn across his bed, fast asleep. Blaise's curtains are drawn around his bed, letting me know he doesn't want to be disturbed.

The exhaustion I had felt earlier is gone, replaced by a restlessness. I know I couldn't sleep if I tried, so I head to the bathroom instead, tossing my clothes off as I turn the water on in the shower.

As I wait for the water to heat up, I keep my thoughts away from my mother. I don't want to find myself depressed again before I can enjoy this feeling of relief, and so I let my thoughts drift to other matters.

Soon enough, I find my mind centering around the conversation I had overheard earlier, between Potter and the girl Weasley. I don't let myself dwell on why the conversation intrigued me so much. I wonder why he had broken up with her- they had seemed so well suited. She was his best friends sister, and they were practically all set to be married the previous year. Not that I had been keeping tabs on Potter or anything, but you just hear stuff through the vine when you are keeping an ear out for whisperings of the Dark Lord.

I step under the hot spray and let my muscles relax. I grab the soap and start to rub it across my chest, letting the water wash away my stress and tension.

Harry Potter, and his pure green eyes. He always seemed to embody everything that was good. I found it much less annoying now than I did in previous years. My thoughts circle Harry, and I let myself think about him, how misconstrued my version of him in my head had been before the war. I'd had such jealousy and hatred towards him that I had been unable to see how good he was, how wrong I was when I called him a fame-whore or conceited. He had deemed me forgivable. He had saved my mother from prison. He had saved my life on multiple occasions, really. I certainly didn't hate him anymore, and I was no longer jealous of him, either. Maybe of the girl-Weasel-- I shake my head vigorously, unwilling to follow that thought.

Harry was just a boy who had too much weight on his shoulders, too many expectations of him and too many demands. Just like me.

I feel almost guilty, for some reason, as I think of Harry. I look down to see that my hand had drifted during my musings, slowly caressing my prick, which is already half-hard.

It feels too good, and I hadn't felt good in ages, so I don't stop.

I try to think of nothing, to think of anything besides Potter-- but my mind is stuck on his face after he gave me back my wand. As if he were seeing me for the first time.

Now that I was done with hating him, I could see all the good that made up Harry Potter. He was everything I had always wanted to be, everything I had always wanted, period.

I felt guilty, for having been such an instigator all those years. Harry obviously had had so much on his plate as it was, what with defeating the Dark Lord and all, and the last thing he had needed was me always at his back, starting fights and being an arse.

This leads my thoughts to Harry and his back…. and then Harry on his back… no, that wasn't right...me on my back, Harry leaning above me, his strong arms on either side of my head. He leans down for a quick, sweet kiss before thrusting his hips against mine, shooting pleasure through my stomach and up into my fingertips.

My body is responding to my thoughts, my cock becoming painfully hard. My hand moves quicker, my hips thrusting in time with each stroke.

I think of his eyes, and how kind he was to me after my trial, and the smile on the train...

My spine arches as I am washed with intense pleasure, a cry of "Harry!" on my lips as I come hard across the shower wall, the quickest I had ever come since I was thirteen.

As I come down from the post- orgasm high, I am shocked with myself. I shake my head, disbelieving. It wasn't like I was gay or anything… right? And obviously Harry wasn't gay either. The impropriety of wanking over someone--and someone forbidden, no less-- in the shower was appalling to my purblooded sensibilities. I smirk.

I start laughing when I think of what my father would say. A slight whisper of a laugh turns into a full-blown fit, my stomach hurting and tears rolling down my face as I think of my father hearing about his son wanking to thoughts of Harry Potter the Chosen One, of all people.

I manage to calm myself down after a few minutes, until the laughter is only silent shakes of my shoulders.

I hear a rapid knocking on the bathroom door, and hear Theo's voice. "You've been in there for ages, Draco. The rest of us need to take a piss, mate!"

I quickly wash down my body, erasing any evidence of my activities from earlier, and turn off the shower.

As I fall asleep that night I realize that my time in the shower had been the first time I had let myself go, and let myself laugh, in months. And all thanks to Harry Potter, no less.

The thought seems absurd, but I let myself relax into my blankets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr (potter-is-mine.tumblr.com).
> 
> THanks for reading and reviewing!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

\---Chapter 3---

I wake up to the sound of a squeal and a groan following immediately after.

I turn my head to see Pansy sitting on Theo's chest, petting his hair. He is blushing bright red but seems to be trying to hide it under his arm thrown over his face. Pansy cooes and snuggles on top of him like a particularly annoying cat.

I turn my head away and meet eyes with an amused looking Blaise, whose head Is peeking out from between his bed hangings. "Looks like Theo's her new plaything. Poor lad."

"It must've been the blushing," I whisper back. Blaise laughs quietly and shakes his head in amusement before hiding back within the confines of his curtains again.

I agree with a slight nod and pull the pillow over my face. I wouldn't have left the door to our dorm unlocked had I known that hurricane Pansy would come in, destroying my sleep and leaving a wake of madness around her.

The noises quiet, so I risk a peek out from under my pillow. At this point she's settled down, just laying right on top of Theo, her hand still petting him like an animal. Theo lifts his arm off his face for a moment and turns to me, the question evident on his face. I smirk and shake my head, indicating there was no hope for him now. Pans had acted the same way with me and Blaise before we became her favorite pals- this was only the beginning.

I get up once I realize that staying in bed hoping for sleep would be futile. I head to the bathroom, grabbing my clothes on the way.

I head to breakfast alone, unwilling to wait for Blaise to get up, and not particularly wanting to sit with Pansy and her new hip-adornment. I start with a tart of some sort, and per usual, my eyes drift to the Gryffindor table. They latch onto a certain trio of rather unfortunate hair-do's.

Potter looks away from his food and up at the Slytherin table, like he's looking for something. When his eyes land on mine, he stops, and smiles questioningly. I blush, thinking about my actions yesterday in the confines of my shower. It felt odd now, looking at him.

He smirks and I drop my eyes back to my food. Stupid Gryffindor with his stupid smile and stupid hair.

I eat as quickly as I can before practically running out of the Great Hall. I have no idea why I'm acting so oddly, but I know I just have to get away from Potter's clever eyes.

On my way to Potions, the first class of the semester, I try to keep telling myself that Potter is obviously still the same prat he was the last seven years. My mind fights me though, and retorts: But how can he be the same? You're not the same prat you were last year, how could he be?

I sigh. Arguing with oneself was never a good sign concerning mental health.

Potter sits behind me in Potions, and its like his eyes are burning a hole in the back of my head. It's like an itch I can't scratch; I just know he's got that same smirk on his face, like he knows something I don't.

I turn my head around slightly, and catch his eye. I was right; he smirks unashamedly, like he knows what I did yesterday. I whip my head back around, and I don't look back at him again for the rest of the class, even though I am unable to focus on anything other than the tingling on the back of my neck from his stare.

*0*0*0*

After dinner that night, I sit alone in the common room. Blaise is gone somewhere with Theo, probably finding some way to smuggle alcohol into the school for the party he's planning over the weekend.

I'm reading, perfectly content sitting alone in front of the empty fireplace. I had taken to reading more lately, as a way to escape from the darkness of my thoughts. This novel was by a muggle author, a gift from Professor McGonagall. It was quite engaging, featuring a troubled prince and a forbidden love.

The portrait hole entrance door swings open, revealing a dark messy-haired head before the body follows. Potter walks in and closes the door behind him.

"Alone for once, P- Harry?" Potter looks up at me in surprise, before making his way to the love seat beside the sofa I'm on.

"Mmm. Ron got pulled away by Blaise, surprisingly enough. Something about fire whiskey?"

I nod. "Yeah, he's planning a party for the eighth years this weekend. I'm surprised he grabbed Weasley, though. He's never been one for gingers." He chuckles and shrugs.

"Yeah, Ron will probably make me go to that. He's been telling me to loosen up lately, which just means get drunk. I headed up here to get started on some homework though, myself." He replies.

I scoff. "Homework. Sure. I know you don't really care about academics, Potter."

He opens his mouth like he's going to protest, but then he seems to change his mind. "Yeah. It's just… everybody's been telling me to "loosen up, Harry" and "Live a little, Harry", but I can't find it in myself to want to party. I get that everybody is celebrating that the war ended, but… I can't help but feel like shit thinking about all those who we lost, you know? Like we're partying without them, moving on without them. Like they died for nothing."

I stare at him a moment. "Yeah. I know exactly what you mean. Two sides of the same war, but nobody really wins in the end."

He nods and looks at his lap. "True enough."

He seems to search for something to say, and we sit in silence for a moment.

"Want to play some chess?" He asks, indicating the board on the table next to the sofa. I decide, why not? and close my book.

We play for awhile, shooting mild jabs at each-other in jest. We joke around, and it's almost… nice. Like we were never enemies.

I finally win, and sweep my hand across the board in a grand gesture of my sovereignty. "I am Draco Malfoy, ruler of all the kingdom. Bow down to my power, peasant." I bellow at Harry.

He's laughing. He slides off the love seat onto the ground, bowing low to me. I'm shocked that he's playing along, and I find I quite like the sight of him on his knees.

"You may rise, and be marked a most noble servant!" I shout, turning my arm horizontally in an imitation of a sword and tap each of his shoulders in turn, imitating the knighthood christening. Both of us collapse back on our seats in laughter.

Once the laughter has died down, Harry looks at me. "Hey, thanks. For not treating me differently after the war, like everybody else has been. I've always been able to rely on you to be an arse to me, no matter what anyone else calls me. I appreciate it." He grins at his underhanded compliment.

If only he knew how wrong he was. After the war, I started thinking about shagging him, for Merlin's sake! "Of course, no problem. I just happen to know what a prat you are, unlike anyone else. I'm evil anyways, right? Better act my part." I joke.

He stares at me for a long moment, enough for me to shift awkwardly in my seat. He finally laughs and shakes his head. "Whatever, Draco."

My face heats at his use of my name, and I berate myself silently.

His face turns serious, and he looks me in the eye. I am pinned by his stare, unable to move. "Do you ever get nightmares from the war?" He asks me in a quiet voice.

I consider before answering him. It feels a bit odd to reveal one of my best-kept secrets to my childhood enemy, but for some reason, I answer honestly. "All the time. I wake up screaming most nights."

"Yeah, me too. I know that I should be happy, and everyone seems to view me as some all-powerful grand vanquisher who has no weakness. It's exhausting, knowing that nobody will help you with a problem they can't know you have."

I nod. He doesn't even know how much I connect with what he's saying- I'm shocked that he's admitting this to me. The Savior of the Wizarding world himself has nightmares, just like me. A part of me relaxes.

"It's what happens, I guess. When you're a focal point of the destruction. You, the light. Me, the dark. Ironic, is it not? That we were enemies, yet experienced much the same?"

He nods again. "Yeah." He whispers. I can't remember how our conversation had turned so dark.

I notice the clock on the wall behind his head. It reads half-past ten. "Well, I have to go to bed. 'Night." I get up from the sofa and grab my book, turning for the stairs. I see Harry get up as well, in my peripheral. As I start to walk away, headed towards the dorms, his hand snakes out and grasps my forearm. I gasp and turn around. My thoughts are focused on his hand, and how warm it is against my skin. His skin is much smoother that I would've guessed, with only a few rough callouses undoubtedly from Quidditch.

"What, Harry-" I start to ask.

He cuts me off with a serious look, his eyes boring into mine, searching my soul. "You're not evil. I know that."

My mouth goes dry as I look at him. He releases my arm, and we stand there looking at each other for a moment before I wrench my eyes away, and head for the dorms.

My heart is beating frantically, fluttering all the way up to my room.

Later that night, while I'm lying in bed, I hear an owl pecking on the window. Blaise had returned already with Theo, both of them fast asleep in their beds. I lie, turning restlessly, thoughts plagued by Potter- his eyes, his hand, his parting words.

I get up and let the owl in, taking the package before closing the window behind it.

I unravel the twine that holds together the parcel, and a bottle rolls out into my palm. I roll it over, and read the label; Dreamless Sleep Potion.

I open the accompanying note.

"Draco,

I thought you might need this. I use it almost every night.

-Harry"

*0*0*0*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr at potter-is-mine.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	5. Chapter 5

\---Chapter 4---

The rest of the week passes in a confused blur for me. I try to avoid Potter, even though I'm not sure why. The morning after he sent me the potion, I had seen him at breakfast and mumbled a quick "Thanks." I haven't spoken to him since, and I find myself taking the quickest showers known to man.

Friday night comes quickly, and it does not disappoint.

Immediately after dinner, the eighth years all flood the common room and Blaise locks the portrait hole. Granger looks on in disapproval, but she has been a bit more laid-back since the war. It suits her.

I try and sneak up to the dorm so I can just sleep, but Theo latches on to my arm and prevents me from leaving.

"If I have to suffer through this shit, you do too." He whispers menacingly in my ear.

I sigh long-sufferingly, and watch Blaise as he summons the firewhiskey from the dorm.

"Firewhiskey for all! It's about time we get trashed! To eighth year!" He shouts, and toasts to the crowd before downing a gulp of the flask of firewhiskey.

I roll my eyes at his antics, glancing around to see if I can catch Potter. He is nowhere to be seen, and for some reason my heart sinks a little.

Everyone rushes to get a drink, and music starts blaring from some unknown source.

Blaise makes his way over to us, holding three glass bottles.

"One for Theo so he can make a move on Pansy; one for me so I can make a move on Theo, or maybe Granger, she's looking quite scrumptious this year; and one for Drakey, so he can get laid by anyone who finds the mild stench of desperation attractive." He hands us our respective bottles, and I smack him over the head.

"Really, Blaise? You call me desperate? Of all people…" I shake my head.

He laughs loudly and tips the bottle to his lips. "Drink up Drakey. Remember fifth year? You were such a fun drunk."

"Yeah, and I was also an evil delinquent who was into Pansy. Not somewhere I wish to return, mate."

His eyes grow big. "And you used to get it up in Snape's class, too! Oh my gosh that was so awful." He laughs, clutching his stomach.

Theo joins in, "Yeah! And you used to wax poetic about his greasy hair and lovely ill-green pallor… those were the days, mate."

"He's so incredible at potions, so smart and powerful. And have you heard his voice? Like sweet molasses--" Blaise mocks in a high pitched voice, Theo and him clutching their stomachs as they chortle.

I chug from the bottle in my hand, hoping to drown my embarrassment. The last thing I wanted was to remember the past years.

I walk away, leaving them collapsing on each other in laughter. I keep drinking, hoping that it will make everything go away.

Soon enough, I've finished my third firewhiskey, and I'm feeling a bit hazy, but much lighter.

I grab another bottle from someone, and start to gyrate to the music, uncaring. It's about this time that I notice Potter walk in the common room from his dorm. Ron goes up to him and claps him on the back.

I shake my head and dislodge my gaze from Potter's face. I really need to get a hold of myself… What's wrong with me? I'm not gay.

I keep telling myself this, grabbing another bottle from the floor, discarded by someone. I down it in one, while staring at Potter as he chats with Loony Lovegood.

I start feeling really hot with all the bodies pressed in around me, so I take off my tie and robe, and unbutton the first few buttons of my uniform. Blaise pops up beside me, shoving another firewhiskey into my hand. He dances beside me and grabs my hand, encouraging me.

My head is spinning, but I feel light, like I'm floating. My dancing feels a bit off-kilter, since the walls are spinning, but I don't care.

"Oi, Potter! C'mere!" I shout over to Harry, gesturing to him in what my mind interprets as "sexily".

Potter looks over at me and laughs, shaking his head before coming over. I grab his hands and start to dance, pulling him along with me. He is hesitant, and when I start grinding against me he puts a hand on my hip to stop me.

I, in my inebriated state, take it as encouragement. I take his hand and bring it up to my waist, pushing closer to him.

He chuckles nervously, and starts to dance with me slowly.

It is about this time that I black out.

**

*0*0*0*

The curtains around my bed are drawn back violently, letting the sun shine harshly into my eyes.

"Wakey, wakey, Drakey!" Blaise shouts annoyingly in my face.

I pull the covers over my head. "Shut the fuck up, Blaise."

"Ooooh, touchy. Though I must ask… it looks as if you have company. I would check that out if I were you." He then yanks my curtains closed again, before moving on.

It takes a moment for his words to process in my sluggish brain. When comprehension dawns, I gasp and sit up, turning to my left.

Sure enough, a tuft of black hair sticks out over the top of the covers.

I lean over, and glimpse a familiar scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

"Shit…" I whisper to myself. I peek under the covers to confirm my suspicion: Potter is naked except for a pair of tight-fitting pants. His trousers and jumper are nowhere to be seen.

I crawl out of the bed slowly, trying my hardest not to jostle the body next to me. I pull the curtains closed behind me, and make my way over to Blaise's dresser. I root around in the top drawer filled with bottles of lube and other horrifying objects before I spot the Hangover potion. I take a gulp and recap it, before turning around and looking over at Theo's bed.

His curtains are half-drawn, as if he was in too much of a hurry getting there to bother with shutting them entirely. His arm hangs over the side of the bed, and a pair of panties lie on the floor next to his bed, along with other feminine garments strewn haphazardly.

I shudder, not wanting to know who was in the bed with him, and head to the showers.

My head has cleared a bit by now, so I don't stab Blaise when I see him in the showers already.

He is humming some stupid tune off-key, and I knock on the glass door of the shower, making him jump.

"Bloody hell, Draco! Nearly scared me to death, you did." He shrieks.

"I need answers. Now, Blaise."

He sighs and turns off the shower, before stepping out unashamedly nude. He wraps a towel around himself and moves to the shared sink.

He roots around in a drawer, lands on some hair product, and starts working it into his dark locks.

"Fine. So, after you had like five or six bottles of firewhiskey, you started dancing all over Potter. He didn't seem to be all that into it at first, but he didn't shove you away or anything so it was fine.

"Then the crazy shit happened. You got up on one of the coffee tables in the common room and said you had to make an announcement. You then proceeded to tell the entire eighth year how beautiful you found Potter, and how great he was, etc. You even kissed his hand." Blaise snickers at this.

I groan, mortified. "No… oh God…"

"But it gets better. So then Potter was like, "Draco, lets get you to bed," and you were like, "But wait! Since you saved the world, you get a free lap dance!"

I slam the butt of my palm into my head at this.

Blaise continues. " ...And then you shoved him down onto the sofa and started giving him a fucking lap dance! Everybody was either shocked or laughing their arses off."

He laughs and looks at me sympathetically in the mirror.

His brow furrows as he remembers, "But the thing is, he didn't shove you off. Maybe he was too drunk to, but it was almost like he was enjoying it."

I scoff, but secretly warm at the thought.

"But then he started getting all flustered and he was getting all gropey, so Weasley grabbed him and said something. He nodded and then got up and grabbed your arm and ushered you up to the dorms.

"I followed you, just to make sure you got to bed all right. Potter laid you down in the bed and went to turn back but you grabbed his arm and said, "Wait, Harry...stay with me." At that, I turned back and went down to the party where I stayed until like 4 a.m. so I have no idea how he got naked, but I guess he stayed." Blaise finishes.

"No shit." I mutter, and turn the shower on. I quickly rinse down and get ready. When I get back into the dorm, Potter is gone.

*0*0*0*

I skip breakfast, avoiding Harry. I wander around until I find an empty classroom, where I stay for the morning doing homework.

Around lunch time, I hear the door open, and Harry walks in with a bag in his hand. I am frozen to the spot, completely dumbfounded as to how he found me.

"Hey. I brought you some lunch." He says, coming over to sit next to me on the floor.

I stay quiet, taking the food that he hands me and gratefully sinking my teeth into it.

"Listen…" He starts, "I know what you're probably thinking. But do you remember anything that happened last night?"

I finish chewing. "Not really, but Blaise filled me in. I'm really, really sorry about that, by the way."

He looks up at me in confusion before turning his eyes down into his lap. "Yeah, it's no problem. Anyways, I got to get back. Just wanted to make sure you weren't starving yourself up here. I'll see you later." He mutters, and leaves before I can think up a response.

I sigh. Absently, I realize that last night was the first night in three years that I had slept through the night without waking from a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I posted a one-shot called Intoxication that is this chapter from Harry's POV, and a lot of shit goes down that you won't know about unless you read it, because of Draco's unfortunate drunkenness. Just fyi lol. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr (potter-is-mine.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thank you for reading and reviewing!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.

\----Chapter 5----

Sunday morning I decide that I can't just spend the rest of my life in bed, wallowing in my misery. So, I walk out to the Quidditch pitch and grab my broom from the shed.

Nothing had ever relaxed me quite like feeling the wind in my hair, experiencing the utter freedom of flying untethered through the sky.

I wasn't able to join the Quidditch team this year, and it had proven a quite disappointing realization. None of the eighth years were allowed on the teams, not even Potter. He took it well, but I knew he was just as upset as I was- and he had been better at Quidditch than I was, loathe as I was to admit it.

I flew for a few hours, throwing out the snitch in the air and chasing after it. It was a convincing distraction, and I only thought of my mother a few times before chasing the golden ball with renewed fervor.

About an hour before dinner, Potter comes out onto the pitch alone. I see him before he notices me, and I take a moment to admire his physique in his old Quidditch gear. I decide to throw caution to the wind, and ignoring the awkwardness between us since the previous night, I call to him.

"Come to join me, Potter?" I shout as I fly closer to the ground, a few meters away from him.

He jumps and looks up at me as he grabs his broom. "Oh, Malfoy. Hey." His use of my surname bothers me, even though I never used to mind.

He mounts his broom and flies up beside me. He looks about as uncomfortable as me, unsure of his footing around me. Sadness hits me as I remember how comfortable and joking we were before the party. Why did I have to mess everything up? 

"I come up here to think sometimes. I guess you had the same idea," he says to me. His eyes are looking at his hands as they grasp his broom handle. I hate seeing him so unsettled, especially as I caused it. I want the old Harry back, the one who I was becoming friends with before all this mess. 

Making a decision, I nod and hold out the snitch in my hand. "Up for a match, Potty?" I taunt him, a smirk on my lips. His eyes meet mine, confusion melting away into familiar mischief.

He snickers at the use of my old nickname for him and snakes his hand out to catch the snitch.

My fist closes before his can quite grasp the snitch, and he chuckles. "Looks like you've been practicing, Draco. But is it enough to beat me?" He winks and flies some feet away from me. I shiver, my heart soaring at his playful tone.

I throw the snitch out of my hand and it hurtles away, soon out of sight. I speed off, Potter right on my tail.

"Challenge accepted," I shout over my shoulder at him, and can just barely hear his responding laugh before it is taken by the wind.

*0*0*0*

We are both tired and sweaty as we land, the snitch in Harry's fist.

"Looks like I won again, Malfoy. You have much to learn."

I roll my eyes as we make our way over to the broom shed and put away our equipment.

I head inside the castle and make my way to the locker rooms, stripping off my gear once inside.

Potter walks in after me, taking off his gear as well.

I move towards the opposite end of the room, and step into one of the showers. The water is cold at first, but slowly heats up, the steam rolling off my sore muscles in curls.

The stall doors are shut, efficiently shielding me from Potter's eyes, but I can hear it when he walks over and starts the shower in the stall next to me.

"Good game, Malfoy. You've definitely improved." He says from the stall over.

I blush, thankful he can't see it. "Endless hours with nothing to do but hate yourself will do that to a person. I ended up spending way more hours than necessary at the pitch at the Manor last year."

He is quiet, and I lather up my hair with shampoo and rub the soap over the rest of my body, massaging my muscles.

"I feel like that sometimes, too. No self-loathing, necessarily, but just… empty. Sometimes I feel like I'm still in the war, still waiting for Voldemort to come find me in my sleep and kill me." He says, his voice low.

I stay quiet for awhile, my hands drifting. Great. I try my best to not think about Harry in the shower, and somehow I end up in the shower talking to him!

He continues, "And to top it all off, I'm so confused by other things that seem so… insignificant."

"Like what?" I ask, massaging the muscles in my shoulders, relaxing to the sound of his voice.

"Like…" he pauses, seemingly gathering the courage to continue. "Like, I think I'm gay."

His words come out in a rush, and my hands freeze. My eyes are wide and disbelieving. I think about Harry being gay, and what that could mean.

Unsurprisingly, my hand drifts to my cock, which had perked up a bit at Harry's revelation.

"Draco? Are you alright?" He asks in response to my silence.

My prick is fully hard now, due to the many inappropriate scenarios running through my head. Clear fluid leaks from the tip of my cock, and I rub my finger over it, smearing the fluid over the head. My fist slides down it slowly, and I try not to whimper. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit shocked, is all. Have you told Weasley?" I ask, my voice breathy.

He snorts. "Yeah right. I'm scared to tell anyone. Can you believe that? After all the crap I've gotten for all the untrue things people say to me, I'm afraid of what they might say about the one thing that's actually true. And I can't even tell my best friends."

He laughs mockingly at himself before continuing, "And the only person I can trust to tell this to is my former arch nemesis! What a fucked up situation."

I laugh breathily, trying to hide the fact that my hand is sliding up and down with fervor now, my hips thrusting in time. I am thankful for how loud the combined shower-fall noise is.

"Shit," I croak, bracing myself against the stall wall.

Harry laughs, thinking my exclamation was in response to his words. "Sorry for telling you this… it's just that I feel like I can tell you things, more-so than I can to my closest friends."

I almost come at his words, but I hold myself back. "I understand. It's no problem. It's not like I have anyone to tell anyways." I respond, my voice cracking.

"Right...Thanks, Draco." At the sound of his voice around my name, my body jerks violently and I come in spurts against the shower wall, shuddering. I bite down on my arm to muffle my moan, but I don't cover it well enough.

"Are you alright, Draco?" Harry asks, turning the water off in his stall.

I hurriedly stand up straight and rinse myself and the shower wall off, shaking off the post-orgasm bliss and trying hard not to let my knees give out.

I turn the water off and say, "Yeah, fine. My muscles just ache, is all."

"Yeah, mine too." His hand reaches over the top of my stall and hands me a fresh towel.

"Thanks," I say, touched by his nonchalant act of kindness.

"No problem," he says as he walks out of the showers, towards his clothes. I walk out as well, the towel wrapped around my waist.

I can feel a faint blush still tingeing my cheeks, but play it off as a response to the hot water.

We pull on our clothes in silence, me watching the muscles in his back ripple as he pulls on his shirt, facing away from me.

"Maybe another time we can play again," he says as he buttons his pants.

"And I can actually beat you," I say with a smirk.

He walks to the door, and as he walks out he turns his head back and throws me a stunning smile. "In your dreams, Malfoy."

The door shuts behind him and I collapse with my back against the lockers.

"Fuck…" I mutter.

I shake my head. I can't keep lying to myself now.

"I'm a fucking poof for Potter, aren't I?" I mutter to myself. Now that's a phrase I could see on one of my enchanted fourth-year buttons. Quite catchy, if I'm honest.

I snort, imagining a club of all Potter's lovesick followers all sitting in a room with me at the head, proudly brandishing pink swirling buttons as they all sigh in admiration. 

I wonder for a moment if Aunt Bella's crazy was hereditary. 

*0*0*0*

The next day I wake up at 3 a.m. from another nightmare, this one from when the Dark Lord was living at the Manor.

I used to fall asleep to the sounds of people's screams beneath me. I used to have to torture people until he said I could stop--

I don't know how I had survived. All I was sure of was that I didn't deserve to.

The dream leaves me hollow. I throw on my uniform without a glance, uncaring. I sit on my bed and wait for hours, staring blankly at my hands until it is time for breakfast.

I'm the first one there, and I nurse a cup of tea for as long as possible. I sit there as students file in, not noticing the stares thrown in my direction.

Pansy sits down across from me. "Damn, Draco. You look like shit."

I move my eyes upwards, landing on her face, but they don't focus. All I can see is their faces, their pain. "Mmm." I mumble.

Theo and Blaise arrive, successfully diverting her attention to them.

"Pansy! I can't believe you!" Blaise shouts while laughing.

She puts on her most innocent face and asks, "Blaise, dear, whatever do you mean?"

"You slept with Theo! The night of the party! How could you not tell me?" He screeches at her.

Theo's face turns beet red and he avoids her gaze.

I get up from the table and walk out of the Great Hall, unconcerned with Blaise's gossip.

I spend the next hour before classes wandering around, running my hand violently through my hair to distract myself from my thoughts.

Potions class is first, and I am the first student to arrive. I sit down and place my head face down on the table, waiting for the day to be over with.

I hear when someone sits down next to me, and I pick my head up.

Potter sits next to me, staring at my chest. "You're missing your tie, Draco."

I look down and realize he was right. I'd also forgotten to button the first four buttons of my shirt. Now that he mentioned it, I was sure my hair looked a right mess as well.

"Oh well. Can't be bothered today." I mumble to him.

He looks concerned, "Hey, are you okay?" He asks, his eyebrows creased together and his mouth open slightly, drawing my eyes to his beautifully plump lips.

I turn my eyes to the front of the room when the Professor starts to call the class to order. "Fine." I reply.

He sneaks glances at me the rest of class, but I don't bother saying anything.

I'm too tired to do anything.

*0*0*0*

The rest of the day passes with little participation from me. I barely respond when addressed, and I know I'm being rude, but I can't find it within myself to feel bad.

I notice that I'm worse when Potter's gone.

After our last class of the day, I go to the prefect's bathroom. I pick a stall and sit on the floor inside it, locking the door. My head throbs, my eyes water, and I'm so inexplicably tired.

My arm tingles where I know my dark mark is, reminding me of its presence. The last tangible piece of proof that I was weak, evil, and spineless.

I yank my sleeve up and stare at it. The skull and snake are still, forevermore, but it's like it is alive.

All of a sudden, I am so filled with anger and desperation, and I can't take it anymore. I rake my fingernails down the mark, and don't stop scratching until blood runs down my wrist and drips onto the floor.

The mark is still there, and I hate myself for it. But the pain distracts me for a moment, and the sight of the blood is satisfying.

Awhile later I leave the stall and go over to the sink. My eyes meet mine in the mirror, bloodshot and watery. My hair is disheveled like I had expected, messy like it had never before been.

I turn the tap, running cold water into the sink, and splash some of it onto my face.

The knob squeaks when I turn it off, breaking the silence.

"This feels awfully familiar." A voice says from behind me, and I whip around.

Potter stands there, staring at me sadly.

He laughs with a sad smile on his face, "Don't hex me, okay?"

My stomach drops and clenches in pain. I remember that day, the day I had almost Crucio'd Potter here, in this very bathroom. I blush with shame and don't look at him.

Harry walks up to me at the sink. "Hey, it's okay. I was only joking."

I refuse to look up at him. "But it still happened. It's still true."

His fingers ghost up my neck and lightly pressure under my chin, tilting my head up until I am looking him in the eyes. "Draco, talk to me." He whispers, his eyes earnest.

I break eye contact and look down at my hands, refusing to reply.

His eyes follow mine, and he gasps faintly. "Merlin, Draco, what happened?"

His fingers gently encircle my wrist, which is bloodstained, and he pulls up my sleeve. His face pales when he sees my mark, a scratched and bloody mess.

"It's ugly, I know." I say, and try to pull my arm away.

He holds on tighter, and I watch in fascination as he brings my forearm up to his face. He places a kiss directly onto my mark, gently, keeping eye contact with me.

I stare in shock, and my eyes start to tear up.

Embarrassed, I step back and pull my sleeve down. I look at him once more before running past him out of the bathroom. My blood stains his lips where they touched my arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr (potter-is-mine.tumblr.com).
> 
> THanks for reading and reviewing!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
> 
> Thank you so much to all the readers and reviewers so far!

\---Chapter 6---

The rest of the week passes in much the same way, except with more avoidance of Harry. I try not to think of anything, not of Voldemort or Dumbledore or my mother or Harry. I didn't know how I felt towards him, and I couldn't think about the consequences of wanting the Savior of the Wizarding world to tie you to a bed and have his way with you. Especially when you were a former Death Eater who didn't even deserve his forgiveness.

Saturday finally comes, and the school prepares for a trip to Hogsmeade.

I roll out of bed earlier than everyone else, since I hadn't been able to sleep in the first place, and get dressed.

At breakfast, everyone is excited and hyper- it was the first Hogsmeade trip of the school year.

The owls flood the air above us, and I am surprised when one lands in front of me. I didn't have anyone to receive mail from, since my mother was gone and my father in prison.

I unwrap the parcel, and my wand falls out. Blaise looks at me in confusion.

"What's that? I didn't even know you didn't have your wand, mate."

"Yeah, the Ministry took it before I even got here. I've been borrowing Pansy's during Charms and Transfiguration. Looks like they've deemed me safe enough to return it." I say mockingly.

It feels good to finally feel it's magic thrumming through my fingertips after so long of its absence.

After breakfast, I go meet with McGonagall before everyone is ready to leave for Hogsmeade.

"Hello, Draco. Nice to see you," she says as I enter her office.

"Hello." I reply, my voice subdued. "I have a question for you."

"Oh, Draco, they haven't found any leads yet-"

"I know," I cut her off. "It's just that the Ministry returned my wand today. I was wondering if they said anything to you?"

"No, I didn't know they had confiscated it. They didn't even mention it to me… although, that's quite odd. It's illegal for the Ministry to confiscate a wizard's wand without reason, especially after you were acquitted." She says, her face creased in confusion.

I shrug, and decide it's better not to dwell on it. "I just wanted to let you know. Anyways, I'm going to Hogsmeade today, with everyone."

Her face clears. "Oh, good Draco! Good to see you getting out and socializing."

I'm not sure if I should feel offended or not, so I just nod. I wave as I leave, bidding her farewell, and head to the main entrance hall.

I join Pansy, Blaise, and Theo in the hall as they wait for the chaperones.

We chat for a while, and when Potter and his friends walk into the hall, my heart stops. I make eye contact with him, and he smiles at me, but I look away quickly.

The walk to Hogsmeade is cold, and I find myself wishing I had brought a coat. I huddle closer to Blaise and Pansy as they talk.

"But you should have told me!" Blaise whines.

Pansy rolls her eyes and sighs, "Blaise, it had only been like a day. When would I have told you? And besides, it's not that big of a deal."

Blaise splutters, "Not that big of a deal? You took precious Theo's virginity and didn't think it was a big deal? Gosh, you really are heartless."

She sighs and shakes her head.

Our first stop is Honeydukes, to pick up some chocolates for Blaise's insatiable need for sugar, and I split off and leave them to battle over which sweets to purchase. I slip out of the shop and start down the street, peering into shops as I go. I avoid going anywhere near Borgin and Burkes.

I find myself somewhere near a Quidditch supply shop, peering in the window at the latest model of an unattainable broom. I hear the footsteps behind me, and see Harry's reflection in the window of the shop. I don't turn around.

"Is that the newest model?" He asks me, walking up to stand next to me.

I don't look at him. "I guess. I don't pay attention to that type of thing much anymore."

"Why not?" He asks me.

I sigh, and try not to snap at him. "Because, Harry, in a span of a few months, I lost everything. My father, my money, my family prestige, my dignity, my freedom, and now my mother. I haven't got much time to worry about keeping up with the newest fad. Wouldn't be able to afford it anyhow, what with my new-found poverty."

He turns to stare at me, but I still refuse to meet his eyes. "Draco, I'm… I didn't mean it like that. I always forget--"

"What? You forget who I am?" I turn abruptly to face him, unable to stop the sudden irrational flash of anger. "Did you forget I was a former Death Eater? That I killed your mentor?" He looks at me with wide, sympathetic green eyes, and I hate it. I hate that he pities me. But for some reason, I can't stop. His eyes, so earnest, make me want to spill every thought I ever had. "Or was it that you forgot I was the son of the right-hand man of the monster who tried to kill you?"

He stands with his mouth agape. "You didn't kill Du--"

"That's what I thought." I carry on, as if he hadn't spoken. "I'm just the same old Draco, who everyone hates. The one who hates Muggles and Mudbloods and puppies." I laugh maniacally, knowing that I should stop. "The boy who always wanted to live up to Harry Potter. The one who always watched a boy he claimed to hate, but couldn't bring himself to ignore." I run out of air and stare back at him, challenging him to say a word.

When he stays silent, shock-still, I turn around and run. I don't know where I'm headed, and I don't know why, but I just have to get away from his pitying gaze.

I don't look back to see if he's following me, but somehow I know that he is.

When I run out of breath, I slump against the building along the side of the road. I bend over at the waist and try to catch my breath, my lungs heaving.

When I stand back up, I notice that I am far away from the rest of the students, on some off-road with empty-windowed shops. The area is deserted.

I cast a tempus charm, and find that it was already half-past two- the group was supposed to head back around four. I turned to head back to go find Blaise and Pansy when a loud "Pop!" sounds behind me, followed by two more.

I whip around and come face-to-face with three men, clad in black robes and white skull-like masks- I freeze in place, petrified. The man in the middle holds his wand pointed at me, and he commands the other two in a gruff voice, "Grab him."

Shocked into animation, I turn and run. The man shoots a binding spell at me, but I turn around and block it, sending back a stupefying hex.

I duck quickly into another adjacent alley, dodging hexes as I go. I send a back a knee-reversal hex in a panic, the only spell I could remember at the moment-- and the man closest behind me goes down, groaning.

The other two are still hot on my tail, and I make it to the end of the alley and almost turn left before a figure comes running towards me from around the corner.

The figure yells, "Stupefy!" and I think that they've got me, but when I feel no impact I realize that the hex wasn't aimed at me, and one of the men behind me crumples.

I stop abruptly and look at the figure, realizing it's Harry. I'm so distracted that I catch a stinging hex on the back of my neck before Harry shoots another stupefy at the man. Before the hex hits him, the man apparates, leaving his two partners lying in the alley with us.

Harry runs to me and pulls me into an awkward hug, breathing hard. "God, Draco, I almost couldn't find you. Are you alright?"

I nod into his chest, shivering. "You're always saving me, Potter." I say, laughing shakily.

His hand brushes the back of my neck and I flinch.

"Looks like he got you with a stinging hex." He chuckles. "Really? Notorious kidnappers and murderers, and all they can send is a stinging hex?"

I look up at him, unamused. "I'm rather glad he was a dim one. He could've killed me." I don't mention that when the Death Eaters were staying in the Manor, half of them were only glorified squibs. Magically stunted, or perhaps mentally, and the Dark Lord only used them for muscle and numbers. For all the Dark Lord's crazy anti-muggle ranting, he certainly made use of squibs and other beings he would spit on in a moment. What some of them lacked in magic finesse they made up for in menacing figures, and were therefore useful.

He reaches into his bag and rifles around a bit before pulling out one of his old jumpers. "I noticed you were cold earlier. Here." He hands the sweater to me, our fingertips brushing as I take it from him.

I am speechless for a moment, so touched by his simple act of kindness. Kindness that no one except my mother had ever shown to me before. "Thanks, Harry." I pull it on over my head, patting it in place. It hangs loosely on my thin frame, which is less muscular that Harry's. 

I almost cringe at the Gryffindor colors, a bright yellow H in the middle of a sea of red. It sits like a mark of ownership over my chest. I don't think too hard about why Harry would be okay with me wearing a sweater that was obviously his in public, where anyone could see. "I've never had a Muggle jumper before, and I must say, it looks rather good on me." I smile at him lopsidedly.

He chuckles. "I must agree." I look down to hide my blush.

I notice that my fingertips are shaking where they peek out beneath the sleeves of his jumper, but not from the cold. Harry notices too, and takes my hand in both of his.

"I think you might be in shock. We need to get you back to the castle." I roll my eyes, not mentioning that I had been through much worse than a few wizards throwing stinging hexes at me before.

He takes out his wand and casts a patronus for McGonagall and Professor Sprout, this Hogsmeade trip's chaperone, telling them what happened and where we were. Sprout appears in a minute, assessing the situation and hurrying past us to the men when she realizes Harry and I are fine.

Seeing the situation attended to, Harry puts his arm around me and ushers me away.

"What were you thinking, running off alone?" He asks.

I curl my lip. "I think you've had your fair share of stupid moments. No need to act all condescending with my minor lapse in judgement."

He smiles and drops the subject. "You'll have to come to my room so I can have Hermione heal that burn. I want to make sure you're all right."

I smile genuinely now, my face heating under his gaze. Damn my pale complexion.

"I had actually wanted to talk to you today," he continues.

I look up at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I... worry about you. About that day in the bathroom-"

I cut him off. "Don't. I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine," he sighs, "But I'm still going to watch you."

I shiver at the thought. "I thought you already did that."

He stops walking and pulls me around to face him, our noses only inches apart.

"Draco. I care about you. I just want us to talk, like friends." I'm thankful that he had never been too talented at Legilimency; he would never know how far from "just friends" my thoughts were when regarding him.

I look into his eyes, green and passionate. He leans in towards me a bit, and I quickly look down. 'You can't let that happen,' I think, berating myself. 'He's too good for you.'

He sighs and releases me, and we continue walking.

*0*0*0*

When we arrive back at the dorms, he pulls me up to his room. Granger and Weasley are there, lying on one of the beds, talking. They look up in surprise when we walk in.

Harry quickly explains the situation, and they leave with a hurried, "Bye, mate," and head to the common room.

"They didn't have to leave," I say to him, sitting on the bed closest to me, which I assume is his.

"It's alright, they probably want to be alone anyways."

Hermione pops her head back in the room a few minutes later, handing Harry a vial of some sort before leaving again.

"Take the jumper off." My heart starts hammering at his words before I realize what he wants to do, and I pull off the sweater, feeling stupid.

He comes behind me and uncorks the vial, spreading a cool liquid onto the burn on my neck. His fingers rub gently, covering the burn and massaging it slowly.

I let out a weak moan accidently as the burn fades and starts to cool, his fingers working magic on my sore muscles. I clamp my lips together to prevent any more embarrassing sounds from escaping.

I hear a slight hitch in his breathing at my moan. He sits on the bed and leans closer to me, putting both hands on my neck and rubbing his thumbs in small, relaxing circles.

"Mmm. That's amazing." I can't help but murmur, sighing and leaning into his touch.

He gives a breathy laugh before leaning into my ear and whispering, "Tell me more, Draco."

At first I don't know what he means, so I stay silent, but then he whispers again, his breath warm against my ear, causing me to shiver. "I want to know you. What you love, what you hate, what makes you shiver like that." His finger runs down the knobs of my spine at the top of my shirt. He removes his hands and places the bottle on the bedside table. He pulls me around to face him and then pushes me down slowly, until we are both lying side-by-side, facing each other on the bed. "Forget who we are as labels and titles. You're not a Death Eater, I'm not the Boy Who Lived. We're just Draco and Harry. Talk to me."

I pull in a shuddering breath, not sure where to start.

"My favorite sweet is chocolate-covered almonds," I blurt out, feeling stupid.

He laughs, the smile lighting up his eyes. "There's a good start."

I think for a moment, and then just start talking to him. Something about the way he looks at me, like he has all the time in the world to focus on the words coming out of my mouth, makes me want to talk forever. I feel like I can tell him everything, and so I do.

"Sometimes I miss my father. I know that I probably shouldn't, because he was an awful person and and a poor father- but sometimes I just can't help it. I feel so alone all the time. I used to be able to always count on him to be by my side, guiding me." My voice is a whisper.

Harry lifts his hand and lets his fingers graze down my jaw in a slow caress. His eyes urge me to continue.

"I have nightmares every night. Of when Voldemort was living in the Manor, and the things he made me do...You already knew that, though."

His brow creases. "I knew you had nightmares, but I didn't know what of. That's awful, Draco."

"I can't help but feel so guilty. I know that everything I did was because I was ordered to, and he would have killed me and my parents if I didn't comply, but… I was still the person who had to do those things." I sigh, and push on. He needed to hear this.

"I had to torture people, Harry. Innocent people. And it eats at me every day."

I expect him to shove me away and yell at me for being filthy Death Eater scum like the rest of them, but he surprises me.

"Oh, Draco." He murmurs, and pulls me into his chest. My head rests under his chin, our bodies fitting together perfectly, like puzzle pieces. "It wasn't your fault. You can't keep all this guilt pent up, it will destroy you."

We stay quiet for awhile, our breathing in sync. After a few minutes, I continue talking, this time in a whisper.

"And ever since my mother was taken… I've felt so alone. I really appreciate all you've done for me, Harry. Honest."

His fingers run gently through my hair, and I can feel his breath ghosting across the top of my head. "Of course, Draco. Anything."

"Can I tell you something else?" I ask against his collarbone, my voice barely a whisper.

"Sure," he answers, his voice just as quiet.

"About what you told me in the shower…" his breathing stalls, and I am glad he can't see my face. "Well… I think I am too. Gay, I mean."

His fingers stop their course through my hair and move under my chin, dislodging me from under his chin and lifting my head up so he can look into my eyes,

"Really?" He asks. His face looks vulnerable, like he thought I was messing with him.

I am distracted by his eyes again, how they search so deeply into my own. My breath shudders, and I almost forget to answer him. "Yeah. Definitely. I thought it was a bit obvious, to be honest."

He breaks out into a breathtaking smile, and I have barely a moment to process the sheer beauty of it before he pulls my chin up and presses his lips to mine.

I stay shock-still for a moment, my brain taking a moment to believe that this is really happening.

When his lips open and his tongue darts out to flick over my closed lips, I am spurred into action.

My lips part, granting him access, allowing our tongues to entwine. His lips are hot against mine, burning. The kiss evolves, slowly becoming more passionate, and he rolls our bodies so he is hovering over me as I lay on my back, allowing him to take control.

His tongue searches my mouth, brushing over sensitive areas gently but firmly, making me gasp.

His hand comes down to wrap around my waist and pulls my body upwards, our chests pressed flush against each other so I can feel his heart fluttering beside my own.

My hands slide up to twine in his thick, unruly hair, pulling on some of the strands. He lets out a muffled groan against my tongue.

"Hey, mate, 'Mione told me to come up here and see if-" Weasel's voice shocks us out of our embrace, and Harry shoots up, sitting back on his knees. My heart warms when his arm doesn't release my waist.

His breathing is ragged when he says, "What was that, Ron?"

Ron stares at us, his jaw hanging open in shock. I would laugh, if I didn't know how important Ron's acceptance of Harry was to him.

"Wha- you- and- Malfoy?" He splutters out, his face slowly turning an unpleasant shade of red.

I sit up and slide my legs to the side of the bed, leaning down to pull on the jumper and then my shoes.

"I better go, Harry. Thanks again, for everything." I say without looking at him, my face red. I hurry past Ron standing in the doorway, who is still grasping for words.

I rush out of the room and make my way to my dorm, my face still burning.

The only thought I can coherently form for the rest of the night is, "Wow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr (potter-is-mine.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thank you for reading and reviewing!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
> 
> Thanks to the readers and reviewers, your feedback is very much appreciated!

\---Chapter 8---

On my way to breakfast the next morning, an arm shoots out of a corridor to my right and yanks me inside. I trip over myself before gaining my footing and whirling around on my attacker, ready to give them a piece of my mind.

I stop dead when I see that the person who grabbed me was Ginny Weasley.

"Malfoy. I need to ask you something."

"And you felt that violently accosting me on my way to breakfast was the best way to go about that?" I ask sarcastically, straightening my now wrinkled shirt.

Her eyes are large and watery, a serious expression on her face. "Malfoy. Is there anything going on between you and Harry?" She asks me.

I stammer, "What do you mean?" in my confusion. This line of questioning was unexpected, to say the least.

"You and Harry. I saw you two at Hogsmeade together yesterday, and with you he's always been… nevermind. I just need to know."

Harry's always been what? I wonder.

I think about the kiss Harry and I shared, and decide that it probably meant nothing to Harry. And anyways, it didn't mean we were boyfriends or anything. "Um… no. Not really."

Her face crumples and she hisses when she asks, "What do you mean not really?"

I sigh in exasperation. "Nothing. There's nothing going on between us."

She sighs, relieved, and seems satisfied with my answer. "Okay. You can go now."

I scoff at her just so that she knows I could have gone whenever I had felt like it, thank you very much.

We part ways and I head to breakfast. I sit in my usual seat at the Slytherin table, and soon Blaise and Theo come join me.

"Oh man, did you see how good she looked today?" Theo asks Blaise, who is paying absolutely no attention to him and just responds with an 'mhm'.

"Talking about Pansy, I presume?" I say to Theo, who looks up and blushes.

"Yeah. I-"

"Theo's shy. He managed to seduce her but can't even gather enough courage to ask her on a date, so instead he's taken to hiding behind large shrubbery and ogling her like the creepy fuck he is. And then he talks my ear off about how great she looks. As if I give a shit." Blaise interrupts him, tuning into the conversation with an eye roll and scoff.

"Hey! I am not creepy!" Theo protests.

I laugh at their antics while I bite into a biscuit, glad that they had some drama to preoccupy their attention, away from me.

I look up from my food and scan the rest of the Great Hall, my eyes landing on Potter.

He looked good today, with his messy uniform and signature rumpled hair that I just wanted to shove my fingers into. There was something sexy about his complete lack of concern for his appearance.

Harry's eyes lift and meet mine across the Hall. His lips curve up into a large smile, and I blush and look down quickly. I couldn't stop my own smile from showing. I can still remember how he smelled yesterday, the smell that I breathed in all last night as I lay alone in bed, still wearing his ugly jumper.

Pansy joins us a few minutes later, looking like she had taken extra care in her appearance today. Her hair is up in a top-knot, her lips a bright red. She sits down beside me, across from Theo, and grabs a biscuit. "What'd I miss?"

Before anyone can answer, a loud shriek echoes from across the hall, and we all look up towards the Gryffindor table.

Girl Weasley is standing over Harry, her face red and her hands balled into fists. Harry seems to be speaking quietly, trying to calm her down.

Ginny shakes her head and looks to be- good lord, is she growling? Her teeth clenched and bared at Harry. He says something to her, and it seems to have been a bad move, because her voice raises about eight octaves.

"Do you love him? Is that what this is?" She shrieks. At this point, the entire Hall is looking at the pair and gaping. I swallow thickly.

Harry says something to her and reaches out to pat her arm, but she yanks it away.

"I thought you said there was nothing going on? You lied to me! Were you cheating on me?" Her eyes are filled with tears now, and she is shaking from the anger.

The back of Harry's neck is slowly turning red from embarrassment. He says something else to her quietly that sounds like, "We aren't together anymore, Gin," and she stomps her foot and turns around, storming out of the Great Hall in a rush.

When Harry turns back around his eyes immediately seek mine out, and we hold eye contact for a minute while the rest of the students go back to their conversations.

I look away when a flurry of movement over my head catches my attention, and an owl drops a letter into my lap.

There is no addressee or name on the outside of the note, so I unfold it slowly, not sure what to expect. I almost faint when I read the words:

"I heard what you did to my men. I do not take kindly to people messing with my plans, Draco.

I will kill her. Comply with my demands and I might kill her quickly.

Then again, maybe not."

The note is unsigned, but I know who it is from. The Death Eater who has my mother, threatening me.

At least I know she's not dead.

The cold pit of dread settles in my stomach, and I don't know what to do.

They're going to kill her. There's nothing I can do.

I can feel the panic setting in, and my breath starts coming in strangled huffs. I lurch out of my seat and run out of the Hall.

Before I can start up the stairs, a hand wraps around my elbow, stopping me. I turn around slowly, my entire body shaking.

Harry stares at me in obvious concern, obviously having seen my panic and followed me. "Draco, what is it? What's wrong?" He asks me, his voice strained.

I shake off his hand. My words spill out of my mouth a mile a minute, barely recognizable in their frantic jumble. "Harry, I'm sorry, I can't talk. I need to go to McGonagall."

He lets me go and I sprint off, running as fast as I can to her office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Thanks for reading! This chapter was a short one because I am setting up for the next couple chapters, which will be quite action-y and dramatic. I had to cut it at an awkward place because it would have been like 8,000 words if I had continued on. This seemed as good a place to stop as any.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at potter-is-mine.tumblr.com.
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
> 
> AN: This chapter has a kind-of trigger warning. It's short because the next 2 chapters will be like one but in three separate shorter pieces. I can post more often if the chapters are shorter.
> 
> R/R Please! Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed!

\---Chapter 9---

I barge in the Headmistresses office in a loud panic.

Thankfully, McGonagall is seated at her desk looking over some papers, and looks up when I enter.

"Hello, Draco. How can I help you-"

I thrust the note out to her, and she stops talking to take it. Her eyes assess me with harsh scrutiny before they drop to the note.

The color drains from her face as she reads, and she stares blankly at the paper for moments after she is finished reading the words.

"Draco…" she begins cautiously. "I'm so sorry. But we mustn't panic-"

"Panic?!" I shriek. "I've long since passed panic. I'm going insane here- she's going to be killed, and all I can do is sit here, waiting for the day when I receive a note that says she's dead!" I feel out of control, my muscles quivering tightly. I have gone far past the point of no return.

"Wait, Draco. I was planning on talking to you today, anyways. I have a bit of news to share with you." She sighs and looks up from the note to meet my eyes, her own reflecting deep sadness. I wondered what she was seeing in mine.

She sighs as if bracing herself, and then begins talking.

"Draco, we have been mercilessly questioning the men who attacked you in Hogsmeade. They are in our custody, and we have conducted multiple interrogations.

"We haven't gotten very much out of them yet, except for a location.

"We found one of the residences of the Death Eaters who are behind all of this mess with your mother and the attack. Someone in the ministry was tipped off, but it seemed there was a leak from the ministry itself, as if there were someone from the inside posing. It all seems a bit sketchy."

I nod, slightly relieved that they had finally found a lead in the case. I hesitate before asking, afraid of the response, "Did you find anything... else there?"

McGonagall seemed to understand what I was hedging at. "They only found two of the Death Eaters but other things inside their residence leads us to believe there is another, primary residence and sort of Headquarters for them." She sighs sadly before continuing. "Draco, they didn't find your mother. We assume she is being kept at their headquarters."

"Or she's already dead," I say, because I'm angry. Not at the Ministry, but at myself. I had been spending all this time acting like a smitten school-girl, obsessing over Potter. I hadn't given much thought to my mother or how she was probably being tortured or starved for the last couple months. I had been entirely too selfish, once again, making fatal mistakes.

"Now, Draco, it is still entirely likely she is alive and well. You cannot blame yourself for this- you have done all you can."

I stop listening to her because I know she is wrong. I didn't do all I could- I could've been out there, looking for her myself. I could have contacted my father, or spoken to anyone who my father had contacts with... Instead, I had been silly and distracted.

I turn and walk away, out of the office and into the halls, headed who-knows-where. I walk for what seems like hours, thinking of everything and nothing. Why couldn't I get it right? Why did I always have to mess everything up? My mother, the last person on this earth left who still loved me, was suffering or dead because I had been too much of a coward to find her or save her. I was always a coward. It would forever be my fatal flaw.

I end up somewhere in the dark, empty corner of the school, in a corridor with empty classrooms filled with cobwebs and abandonment. I wonder how many innocent people died here, in this hallway, because of me. Because I let Death Eaters into the school. Because I was spineless. I back against the corridor wall and slide down it so I am sitting on the ground. I put my head in my hands, the self-loathing trying to bust out of my head and leak out my ears.

'You have to do something, Draco. 

You are a failure. 

She's better off without you, a coward, unable to help even himself.

Potter is better off without you, too. Always ruining everything. He probably doesn't even like you.

They all pity you. Poor, pathetic Draco Malfoy.

A kicked puppy who doesn't know how to stay down.'

My head aches from where my fingers grip my hair mercilessly. I consider leaving Hogwarts, but with the Ministry watching me suspiciously already, and with no place to go... How could I help my mother? All father's contacts are in the Manor, and I couldn't go back there.. They would've undoubtedly warded the house to alert them of my arrival, should I return... And I couldn't contact my father, I would need to get Ministry approval to contact him in Azkaban. They would question me, and stop me from trying to find mother...

'You are a failure.'

The words echo over and over in my head, unrelenting. I could do nothing but stand back and watch, as my mother's life was being threatened.

Never once had I been able to do anything good or worthy in my life... I didn't even have enough courage to be my own person. And now that I was forced to be, I didn't know what to do with myself. No outside influence, and I was still a failure.

'She's better off without you. Your friends are better off without you... Harry is better off without your needy presence always reminding him of the war, and of your bullying...'

Inside, I feel empty. I'm nothing, never was anything. A shell of a person who was a coward, and a bully, and a racist. Unable to even stand up to my own father.

I stand up and start walking again, eager to do anything that will take my mind off of my failures, my mother, Harry, my father...

I walk numbly, mindlessly, until my legs start to hurt. I stop to take in my surroundings. I hadn't even realized where I was going, and I ended up at the astronomy tower. How telling, the place where one of the worst moments of my life took place is where I end up when the next worst moment of my life happens.

I start up the steps, not really sure why I'm bothering. Why revisit this place, where I had failed so greatly, where I dream of night after night in fear...

I remember Dumbledore's face as he realized I was going to kill him. It is ingrained in my memory, a stain that I can't wash away. I remember not being able to do it because I just couldn't. And then I remember Snape stepping in, doing the deed I was unable to perform. And I remember the intense regret and shame and sadness I had felt as I watched him fall.

And after, when Harry had chased after us on the grounds, yelling at Snape, "How could you? He trusted you!" and I couldn't help but feeling like he had been shouting those words at me.

At the top of the tower I go over to the place Dumbledore had stood in the last moments of his life, and look across the grounds.

This really is such a beautiful place. At least Dumbledore had been in such a beautiful place his last moments. Such a beautiful place to die.

I step up to the ledge and look down. A long drop stretches beneath me.

The wind blows across my face gently, and the sun is dipping behind the horizon and sending beautiful orange and red streaks across the sky.

I almost feel at peace, if not for ghosts in this room. I stand there watching until the sun drops behind the horizon, watching the last of the colors leach from the sky.

And in that moment, it isn't a conscious decision, but my body takes that last step into thin air, and I fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC
> 
> (Not real ghosts, folks. Metaphorical ghosts.)
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr at potter-is-mine.tublr.com
> 
> Thank you for reading and reviewing!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.  
> AN: Thank you for all the support through reviews and reading!

\---Chapter 10---

"Aresto momentum!"

*0*0*0*

I drift into consciousness slowly. The first thing I feel is warmth. It is welcoming, embracing, and I feel peaceful for a moment.

Until I hear the footsteps underneath me, and feel my body being jostled by the fast pace set by the person carrying me.

The words register then, the person above me saying, "Draco, wake up. Please, please... You're okay... please wake up. Draco, please."

I open my eyes and look at the face above me, not really registering the identity that went along with the boy's dark hair, green eyes, and glasses.

"Oh, thank God. Draco, it's okay. I'm taking you to my dorm. Just hold on."

Absently I wonder why he is walking so quickly, and then I wonder why he is carrying me and telling me I'm okay.

I am shivering, but not from being cold. My body is shaking with tremors, my teeth chattering together.

I remember then, why I was here.

"Why am I still alive?" I ask the boy.

He looks down at me, shocked. "Draco, you can't be doing things like this..."

I didn't know what he means, nor do I bother to find out. I was so tired, I just wanted to sleep forever.

"No, Draco, stay awake. You can't sleep now."

I am annoyed by his voice pulling me out of the call of unconsciousness. His gait changes as we enter an odd red room I had never seen before.

"Here, we're going to go in the bathroom. He's in shock I think, or something-- I don't know if I should bring him to Pomfrey--" I hear the boy say to someone else in the room. I don't open my eyes to look at who it is.

I hear a door close behind the boy and I open my eyes slightly to see we had entered another smaller room. He puts me down on the floor, which is very cold, and immediately I miss the warmth of him arms.

"I need to take off your clothes, alright? I remember hearing about how to deal with shock, but--" He says, looking in my eyes.

I don't care much what he is saying or why, so I just comply with his urgings and close my eyes. He pulls off my outer robes and my undershirt, and then my shoes and socks, and all of my clothes until I am sitting in just my pants.

"No, don't sleep. I'm going to run a bath for you, okay? You need to take off your pants."

I open my eyes lazily, and look up at him. I am hit by another wave of exhaustion, and I am about to close my eyes, when he speaks again.

"Oh Merlin... okay, I guess you probably can't take them off yourself... okay, I'm sorry, I won't look or anything." He gently grabs under my arms and pulls me up, and then leans me against the wall. He very gently puts his fingers under the waistband of my pants and slides them down, pulling up my ankles so he can slip them off.

His face is pink, but he is very gentle when he picks me up like a baby and walks me over to the bathtub. He rests me in the hot water slowly, and I am immediately grateful for the warmth on my skin. His hand rests behind my neck, supporting me and preventing my head from slipping under the water.

"I'm going to go get you some food. It will help with the shock." He gets up to leave but I find the strength to grab his arm and pull him back down.

"Stay. Please."

He blushes and settles on his knees beside the tub. He turns the tap back on, adding more hot water to the tub so it wouldn't cool down. After a moment, he adds a warming charm as well.

I start to reach for his shirt for some reason, but his hand stops me.

"What are you doing?" He looks at me concerned, holding my wrist and preventing it from continuing it's apparent mission to disrobe him.

The hot water is relaxing my body and my tremors have died down. My mind is coming back to me slowly, and I remember where I am, who I am, and who he is.

"Harry, please." I look at him pleadingly, not even sure what I am asking for.

He releases my wrist in a silent acquiescence. I reach down and pull his shirt over his head, making sure not to pull his glasses off his face. Water splashes over the side of the tub, hitting his shoes.

I reach down for his trouser buttons next, noticing he was wearing some odd muggle-trousers that I had seen briefly on one of the muggle neighbors when I was at the safe house. They are blue and rough against my fingertips.

His hand beats mine there, and he makes quick work of the buttons before sliding his trousers off. He slips off his socks and trainers next, leaving him standing almost naked before me.

I admire his physique unashamedly- I would only ever have this one chance to see Harry naked, and I wasn't about to pass it up. I could always claim not to remember it later anyways.

His eyes meet and hold mine as he slides his pants off. My face heats but I do not release his gaze until he is standing completely naked before me.

I eye him up and down, and notice that his prick is much larger than mine, and it doesn't surprise me one bit. He is the type to be good at everything, of course he would be perfect in the body-department as well. His entire body is thin but well-muscled, and my eyes catch on a few scars that marr his chest.

He's so beautiful.

He steps into the tub and sits down so his body is pressed side-to-side against mine. There is just enough room in the tub to fit us both comfortably.

My heart stops when he reaches down under my knees and pulls me on top of him, his body curling around my much smaller one. My back is flush against his chest, and I can feel his heart beating against me. It is comforting, almost as much as it is arousing, to be cuddled by Harry, wrapped in his protective arms.

"Thank you," I whisper as I press my cheek against his neck.

*0*0*

After our bath, Harry dresses me slowly, his fingertips caressing slowly, his fingers wandering, always gentle. They ghost along my ribs, my hips, my thighs, seeming to taste my skin, leaving behind a trail of heat. I am almost falling asleep by the time he picks me up in his arms and carries me back into his dorm. He lays me down on a bed, and the moment my head hits the pillow, I'm asleep. The next morning, I don't remember Harry leaning down and kissing my forehead, and whispering, "Sleep well, beautiful."

*0*0*0*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: You guys knew I wouldn't kill Draco. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing, and much love to you all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

\---Chapter 11---

I wake up slowly, sluggish and groggy. I feel as if I've been hit by a truck. I look around while I rub the sleep out of my eyes, and realize that it is well before dawn- the sky is just barely lightening outside.

I am in a dorm room that looks exactly like my own, except for the excessive amounts of red. Red and gold banners drape the stone walls, red rugs line the floor; red curtains hang around each of the four beds in the room, and are drawn closed tightly. A wave of sadness hits me when I compare this room to my own Slytherin dorm, which holds not a single lick of green. I wonder how much of it was because of the school, and how much was because all the Slytherins this year can't muster up much pride.

I look down to the bed I am currently lying in. True to form, I am covered in bright red sheets. Beside me is Harry, his mouth open slightly, fast asleep. I take a moment to take him in- his sleep rumpled hair, the long black eyelashes that contrast against his cheek.

I shake my head and sit up, looking over the side of the bed for my shoes, until I remember how and why I was here. Right.

I start to get up but a strong arm slips around my waist, preventing me from moving any farther.

"Where do you think you're going?" Harry whispers seductively in my ear, his breath ghosting across my neck making me shiver. "Trying to run out on me again?" His nose nuzzles into the hollow of my shoulder and glides up until his face is buried in my hair, breathing in deeply. He is still half-asleep, but his grip is strong.

I lean back against his now half-sitting form, relaxing. I am enveloped by the heat of his body, and he pulls me back down so we are lying, facing eachother.

His eyes are still slightly sleepy but they are bright with warmth. I smile at how beautiful he is, and am hit by how kind he had been last night. He saved me, and helped me, and let me sleep in his bed.

The smile slips from my face when I remember the rest of yesterday.

I had tried to kill myself. And Harry, again, had saved me. I wonder how many times someone can owe another a life-debt.

I was so confused- why did he bother? Why hadn't he just let me die? It would've been so much easier. For everyone.

Maybe he just has a hero complex, and it had nothing to do with me anyways.

I don't let my thoughts wander to my mother or father again. I knew now what my thoughts were capable of. Instead, I look into Harry's eyes and pretend for a moment that he saved me because he cared for me.

"Good morning," he whispers with a sweet smile.

I try to smile back half-heartedly. He notices my change in mood with a frown.

"What is it?" He asks, his eyes showing concern.

"Why did you do it? Why did you save me?" I whisper hoarsely.

His eyes widen in disbelief. "You really have to ask, Draco? I care about you." I almost laugh. I wonder if Potter has been practicing his Legilimency. "Why on earth would you want to kill yourself? Did you really expect me to just let you die?" He asks, genuine confusion in his face.

I say nothing.

He sighs and pulls me into his chest. "God, Draco. You gave me a heart attack when you pulled that stunt- I'm just so grateful I could get to you in time."

I bury my face in his chest so he can't see my eyes tear up. "How did you know where I was?" I ask quietly into his chest. The skin is soft against my cheek, so I rub my face against it slowly. I wonder what he would do if I licked him.

"I..." He sighs, beofre seeming to come to a descision. He releases me, and I have to stop myself from clutching him closer. "My father, he made this map when they were in school. It--Here, let me just show you." He leans over under his bed, rooting around a bit before pulling out a brown piece of parchment. He unfolds it and places it in my lap. My eyes flit from name to name, watching the footprints move across the castle. I spot the names "Theodore Nott" and "Pansy Parkinson" quite close together in a small broom cupboard near the Great Hall and chuckle.

"I guess this is how you managed to stalk me all sixth year, huh?" I ask him with a raised eyebrow and feigned stern expression.

He blushes, high spots of pink blooming on his cheekbones. "Um, yeah. I've been using it to stalk you a bit this year, too," He says with a shy laugh.

I smile, thinking of Harry Potter sitting in his bed at night with his map, following my name around with his wand. The smile fades a bit as I mentally shake myself. He was probably keeping tabs on me to make sure I didn't do anything stupid again. With due cause, too, given last night.

After a pause, he clears his throat. "Promise me you will never do anything like that again. You can't do that to me."

I almost scoff. To him? What on earth did I do to him? 

He pulls up my chin so my face is level with his.

"Promise me." He whispers, his eyes boring unrelenting into mine.

My eyes start to burn with unshed tears, and his finger moves to wipe one gently from my lashes. I nod in answer to his demand. "I promise," I croak, my voice cracking. I couldn't say no to him. And it wasn't like I had actually planned on trying to jump from the Astronomy Tower.

His lips lift in a sad smile. "Let's skip classes today. So you can rest."

"Don't patronize me, Harry. I'm okay to go to class." I say with a roll of my eyes, trying to play off the tears.

He laughs. "I know… but I just want to stay here, like this, for as long as possible." He murmurs, his finger drawing patterns on my cheekbone.

My heart stops. I pull him in from behind his neck, our lips crashing together with a click of teeth. I try to go slow, but the kiss quickly turns passionate. He devours my mouth slowly, savoring. I tug on his lips with my teeth, loving the moan that reverberates in his chest.

We stay wrapped together for a while as the sun wakes, the world around us still fast asleep. It feels as if we are the only people in the world.

I pull away and bury my face in his neck, nibbling softly. He has slight stubble under his chin from the night, and it scratches pleasantly against my cheek.

He sighs contentedly. His fingers are contemplative as he runs them down my spine. I wait for him to speak what is obviously on his mind.

"You should talk to someone."

I pull away from him slightly and scoff. "It was a mistake. I know that now. I don't need to talk about my feelings or whatever." I don't want to have to relive my worst memories to some emotionless mind Healer who would nod along as if they cared before handing me a potion that would make me numb to the world. I had already tried that before, during seventh year. Self-hatred is better than emptiness. Talking would do no healing here.

"No, that's not what I meant." He protests. "I just mean… there's something obviously going on. You had this all buried inside, and Draco… I can't watch you be hurt like this."

I refuse to meet his eyes and show him how much his words were affecting me. He was the only one whose words ever really touched me to the core, whether they be cruel or kind. I want to say something biting, remind him that he has no reason to be concerned with my well being. I was nothing to him, and he needed to stop pretending. He was only helping me because I was pitiful, a project for him to fix.

"At least talk to me, Draco. I will listen. Talk to me, if you won't talk to anyone else."

His last plea breaks me, and it all comes out in a rush. If he wanted to know, I would tell him. "It's just… all these things piling up. My mother is kidnapped and I don't even know if she's alright. I can't help but thinking it's my fault, that I should be doing something more to help- but I don't know how.

And I'm all alone. My father, my mother, my godfather- everyone I ever loved is gone.

Every night I am bombarded by the memories off all my regrets and all the things I did wrong- how much I royally fucked everything up. And I'm so sorry, to everyone, for everything. I can't help but think how everyone who I've ever met would be better off without me."

I pause for a moment. Harry is looking into my eyes earnestly, and I wonder what he was thinking. His expression is one of the utmost grief, and I feel yet another pang of guilt for being the reason he was feeling it.

"God, its just like I can never escape this guilt."

I look down at my left forearm, at the scratched and scabbing mess that is now my dark mark. The mark is black as ever, stark against my pale skin. "And I have this to remind me of my mistakes every day of my life." He brings his fingers to my mark, tracing the outline of the snake. His eyes are sad.

I pause, and look up into them. I am ashamed for baring all of my thoughts to him, and try to steer the conversation away from me and his pitying eyes. "But at least I know I'm not the only one who can't quite leave the war behind."

His eyes cloud. "Yeah. The war changed so much, I don't think I'll ever be able to recover from it fully. It took my parents, my godfather, my friends… So much loss, so much destruction, and we're just supposed to get over it, move on." He laughs, the sound laced with slight bitterness.

He looks down at me abruptly and stares into my eyes with more intensity than before, as if he had suddenly realized something. "But we can move on, Draco. We can help each other. We don't have to live in the past forever. You don't have to feel guilty anymore."

I nod. He had a way of speaking in such a way that it could make anyone believe his words. Deep down I knew he was wrong, but at that moment, I believed in everything he said. I could feel hope, in the arms of Harry Potter.

He smiles at me warmly, and adds, "We will find your mother. I promise."

My throat clogs with tears, and I smile back at him. God, I can't seem to stop crying around Harry. I hope my gratitude is displayed on my face in ways my words could never express.

He nods and leans in, capturing my lips in a sweet, gentle kiss.

His fingers caress my jaw as his tongue darts out to slide against my bottom lip. I part mine slowly, allowing his tongue access. The kiss turns less gentle and sweet as our tongues slide sensuously against each other, his hand drifting down to grasp under my knee. He hikes my leg up over his hip before flipping our entwined bodies over so that I am seated on his hips.

Our new position brings certain other parts of our bodies together, and I noticed that the kiss was affecting him as much as me. I shyly move my hips up so that our clothed cocks slide together slowly, pulling a moan out of Harry.

Our eyes never leave each other's, held in a passionate stare. I bite my lip to stifle a moan, and his eyes light up with hunger.

We are pulled out of our haze with the sound of a slamming door, and we drunkenly turn towards the interruption.

Finch-Fletchley stands in the doorway, staring at us. He was the seventh-year's Head Boy, and his robes were pristine and topped off with his proud Head Boy pin.

He recovers from his shock enough to address me. "Uh, sorry. I went to your dorm already, but your friend Blaise told me you'd probably be here. Am I interrupting?"

I have to bite my tongue from an angry comeback, because obviously he was interrupting, but Harry speaks first, sensing my annoyance.

"No, it's alright." He sits up, effectively dislodging me from his lap. He lands a quick kiss on my lips before getting up. "I'll leave you two to it." He enters the bathroom and closes the door behind me. I can't help but think about how much I'd rather be in that bathroom showering with Harry than staring at the alarmingly zitty face of Justin Finch-Fletchley.

After Harry leaves, his demeanor changes. He sneers at me. "McGonagall needs to see you."

I pull on my clothes and shoes and follow behind him, shooting daggers at the back of his ugly head.

"So, you're a fag?" He asks, all pretense of tact thrown completely to the wind.

I grunt noncommittally in response. I really didn't want to be having this conversation.

The Head Boy laughs cruelly. "And Potter is a fag, too? Who would've thought. The Golden Boy has some secrets, I see."

I have to clench my fists to contain my anger, itching to punch him.

"How did scum like you manage to get with Harry Potter? I guess there wasn't much option for other fags he could bugger, hm?"

I am positively shaking by the time we stop in front of the Headmistresses office. Finch-Fletchley doesn't seem at all put-out that I had ignored his questions, and instead starts to head off in another direction, leaving me in the hall.

"See ya later, fag." He says over his shoulder as he rounds the corner.

I practically snarl the password to the Headmistresses office before I barge into her office, unable to shake off my anger. How dare some worthless zitty ponce such as Finch-Fletchley call Harry, the Saviour of the freaking Wizarding World, a fag? Who did he think he was?

I stop in my tracks at the sight I am met with. McGonagall, Kingsley, and two other aurors pace the Headmistresses office, arguing with each other.

"He's just a boy! You can't ask that of him-" McGonagall stops mid-sentence when she spots me.

I forget my anger and step forward. "Who are you talking about?" I ask.

McGonagall and Kingsley share a look before returning eyes to me. "Nothing, Draco. We wanted to have a talk with you, sit."

I sit cautiously, wary of their nervous expressions.

McGonagall speaks first. "We think we may know how the Death Eaters found you in Hogsmeade."

She pauses for dramatic effect, and Kingsley continues.

"Draco, can I have your wand?"

I hand it over to him after a moment, suspicious.

He holds mine in his palm and pulls out his own wand, waving it over mine slowly. My wand emits a slight red glow for a moment, before Kingsley lowers his arms.

"There was a tracking spell placed on your wand. The Death Eaters were likely using it to track you until you were away from Hogwarts so they could ambush you."

My heart drops.

"Was there any point where someone had your wand who wasn't from the Ministry?" Kinsley asks.

I shake my head. "No, there was no one." I pause for a moment before I remember something. "Although… after I was acquitted, a man came and took my wand from me, claiming the Ministry needed to confiscate it. It struck me as rather odd, since I had just been released, but I gave it to him anyways. Right after was when we were ambushed at the Manor…"

Kingsley looks thrilled by this news. "Can you tell me anything else about him?"

I try to remember for a moment, my face scrunched in effort. "Yeah… he didn't seem like a normal Ministry employee. He was hostile, and his name was rather odd… Kennedy, I think it was."

Kingsley practically claps his hands with glee.

"And a couple months later, my wand was returned to me here."

"Could you give one of my Aurors a description of him?" Kingsley asks.

I nod, and he ushers me to the two Aurors by the door. Kingsley keeps a hold of my wand. "I need to use it for the tracking spell, if you don't mind."

I nod again, my head spinning.

"This could be the break in the case we have been waiting for! Riley, take Mr. Malfoy's statement, please."

*0*0*0*

A couple of hours and plenty of stressful questions later I am headed to breakfast with the last few stragglers.

I can sense a change in the mood of everyone in the Great Hall. There is a certain excitement, and everyone is staring at either me or Harry, who is seated with his friends, with wide eyes. I sit down at the Slytherin table next to Blaise.

"What's going on?" I ask him, taking a tart off his plate. He swats my hand.

"Take a look for yourself." He hands me the Daily Prophet, this morning's edition. They must've come in earlier than usual.

I almost choke when I see the front header: 'Boy Who Lived… To Be a Pouf?'

The sub-header reads: 'Harry Potter, Buggering a Death Eater!' Blaise smacks my back as I hack up the bite of tart I had lodged in my throat. 

"He certainly worked fast," I mutter, thinking of this morning's interruption.

A large photo of me straddling Harry's lap at the eighth year's party graces the front page. I continue to read the article, which details Harry's and my "closeted romance," which had only recently been discovered by a student who "happened upon a steamy scene" between the two of us. The article also included information detailing the party the eighth years had thrown, describing Harry's and my "passionate grinding and sensual dancing." It even talked about how we had gone up to the dorms together afterwards.

"I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill Finch-Fletchley." I growl.

Blaise pats my arm. "He isn't in his usual seat, he probably didn't come down this morning. What the hell is this all about, anyways?"

"I stayed with Potter last night," Blaise's jaw drops open, "nothing inappropriate, I promise. Not until this morning anyways. And Fletchley comes into Harry's dorm uninvited, looking for me, and gets an eyeful of me and Harry kissing. Kissing. That's it. Honestly, half of this isn't even true!" I exclaim, gesturing to the paper.

I look up from the table and over at the Gryffindor table, searching for Harry. He is nowhere to be seen, but the Weasel and Granger are still eating breakfast.

I sigh. "Listen, I have to go. This is ridiculous. I have enough to worry about."

Blaise starts to protest, but I am already halfway across the Hall.

I walk quickly back down the corridors, fuming. Really, why did people have to stick their noses where they didn't belong?

I was almost to the Eighth year dorms when I am yanked by an unseen force and pulled into a dark room on my right. The door closes behind me. Honestly, what is it with me and getting yanked into dark places?

A whispered lumos lights up the small room, and I realize I am in a broom cupboard. With Potter, no less.

I look at him annoyed. "Really? Was the yanking necessary?" I ask him.

He laughs. "Sorry. I didn't think we'd be able to get some privacy any other way."

I raise my eyebrow at him. He doesn't allow me to speak, and instead pulls me into him, his lips claiming mine.

After a few minutes he breaks away from me, both of us breathless.

"Are you okay?" He asks, concern lacing his voice.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"The whole thing with the paper. I wanted to make sure you weren't freaking out."

"Not hardly." I laugh. "You mean you're not mad?" I ask.

"Mad? About what?"

"About being outed. With me, a former Death Eater, as well."

He gives a breathless laugh. "This has been my life since I was eleven. The press always barging in my business. I knew it would only be a matter of time before the entire Wizarding world knew I was gay."

"But what about the part with me? Aren't you mad at being caught with a Death Eater?" I ask shyly.

"Draco, how many times do I have to tell you? I don't care about your past. We can move on. And I am certainly not upset at being caught with the hottest guy in Hogwarts." He smiles gently.

I blush, trying not to let his words affect me.

"And, to be honest, it's easier than having to tell everyone myself. About being gay. And about you, if this is a thing." He says. His eyes search mine curiously.

I look down, not replying. I couldn't let this go on, couldn't let Harry care for me just so he could find out he didn't want me after all, later on.

He sighs sadly. "Right. Well, we better get back before someone notices our absence."

He takes my hand and pulls me out of the cupboard, releasing it when we enter the dorms.

"See you later, Draco."

*0*0*0*

Later that day, at lunch, I am sitting with Pansy and Blaise again. I try to focus on their conversation, knowing I've been neglecting them.

"...and I don't know what to do! You know how hard it is for me to express my feelings." Pansy was saying.

Blaise patted her hand consolingly. "Don't worry. You just need to have an honest chat with him. Tell him you want to shag him for the rest of your life." We all snicker at this. "Tell him preferably while you're shagging." We break out laughing.

"I can always count on you, Blaise." Pansy says sarcastically.

"Oooh, speak of the devil." Blaise whispers as Theo strolls up to the table. He avoids eye contact with Pansy awkwardly, sitting down next to me.

"Hey, guys! Have you heard about the next Quidditch match? I heard it's against Gryffindor."

I tune out and let my eyes drift, eventually landing on Harry across the Hall. As if he could feel my eyes on him, he looks up and meets my gaze. We hold eye contact for a moment before he abruptly stands, making his way towards the Slytherin table.

I start to panic, but don't have enough time to bolt before he is standing in front of me, his green eyes blazing into mine.

"Do you want to leave?" He asks me, his voice deep and gruff.

On impulse, I reply, "Absolutely." And get up. He takes my hand and I follow him out of the Great Hall, all eyes on us.

*0*0*0*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
> 
> AN: I'm so sorry for how long it took to get up this chapter, and I'm sorry it's so short.
> 
> Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed and messaged me on tumblr.

\---Chapter 12---

We end up on the Quidditch pitch, on our backs, looking up at the sky.

Harry breaks the silence. "You told me the night of the party that you wanked to thoughts of me in the shower."

I start coughing, the shock freezing my lungs. I manage to choke out a, "What the bloody hell?"

He laughs. "Yeah, it's a real shame you can't remember it. A lot of stuff happened that night that I wish you remembered." He says, his voice filled with regret. "We didn't sleep together or anything, which is what I'm sure you thought, but..."

I reflect in silence. This was why I hated drinking. I always forgot the good parts. 

He nods to himself. "I would pay to see that."

I laugh. "What, me wanking to you in the shower?"

He nods, smiling hugely. "Oh yeah. I bet that'd be real hot."

I giggle and roll onto my side, facing him. After a moment of silence, I say, "Thank you, Harry. For everything."

He smiles at me serenely, and in that moment, I feel as if we were in complete harmony. As if we understood each other on a soul-deep level.

He turns his face to me, his eyes playful. "Tell me something about you that I don't know. Something that has nothing to do with the war."

I hesitate, once again not sure how to answer. It seems like for so long, the war is what dictated my existence. It's hard to remember a life where I had no worries. "I used to want to be in a wizard rock band. Like the Weird Sisters, you know?" 

He laughs, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? I didn't really take you for the musical type."

"Yeah," I laugh, "Grow out my hair into a Mohawk, maybe wear some leather, who knows. Have all the teen girls scream my name," I giggle, imagining myself in leather.

Harry seems to be doing the same, smiling as he muses. "Teen boys, too." He says with a wink. I laugh.

"Of course, my father told me that would be stupid, and uncouth, unfit for a Malfoy. I should want to be a Ministry worker, a professional Quidditch player, maybe the next Minister of Magic, maybe a Healer if I'm not as ambitious as him." I pause, the memories coming back in full force. "I never really wanted to be any of those things, though. Maybe a Healer, but I don't know. It's been awhile since I had to think about my own future, rather than having it laid out for me."

Harry's fingers find mine, his thumb rubbing over my palm in soothing circles. I think about how he had probably experienced the same thing, his whole life ruled by a prophecy.

"My mother taught me to play piano when I was five. We used to sit together at the baby grand while she played me a lullaby, showing me the notes as she sang." I pause. "She never told me I was stupid. She told me that music was how people bared their soul."

I look back up at Harry, smiling. "She was the reason I loved music. My father told me to learn instruments to be well-bred, but my mother told me to learn music to be free."

He smiles back. "Do you still play?"

It had been years since I had touched an instrument, even longer since I had sung. "Not anymore. I used to play the violin, the piano, the flute. My mother had a guitar that she taught me to play, because it was her favorite. But I never played it because father said it wasn't refined, like the other instruments. It was too muggle, he used to say. She kept it anyways, though." I smile to myself, remembering when Mother used to roll her eyes when Father would go off on one of his Pureblood rants.

I realize I'd been taking up the whole conversation, so I turn to him. "Your turn."

It takes him a moment before he understands what I'm asking. "Um... well, I guess I've been in the same boat as you. I've never really had to think about my future before. I kind of always knew what I had to do, and that was defeat Voldemort. I didn't really think of a life after that." He says, and I am filled with sorrow for both of our lost youths.

"Everybody seemed to assume that I was going to be an Auror, and I guess I assumed that too. But I don't think I want to do that. I'm tired of fighting the bad guys every day of my life."

I laugh, "You've vanquished enough evil for a lifetime."

He smiles back at me. "I like the idea of being a Healer though, like you mentioned. Helping people sounds nice."

I smirk to myself. Of course he liked to help people. Poor, sad people who couldn't help themselves. I was a prime example of that.

He snorts."Or maybe I could just open up a restaurant in Hogsmeade. Cook for everyone." He has a self-depreciating smile on his face. "I used to have to cook for my aunt and uncle all the time. They didn't like me much, so they made use of me instead. Cooking, cleaning, whatever struck their fancy. Sometimes I would go days without being given any food, and punished when I tried to take some."

Everything makes sense to me now, from his hero complex to his kindness to the way he ate, like the food would disappear if he didn't eat it as quickly as possible. There is a pit in my stomach, for all the times I made fun of his clothes as a kid.

He leans over and kisses my forehead. "Maybe we could open a restaurant together. I cook, you play music on the stage." We laugh softly. 

For some reason, he included me in his future. He thought we would be together. Wanted us to be together. I sigh, equal parts confused and elated. I know I shouldn't get my hopes up, but it was hard when Harry spoke as if we could take on the world together, fearlessly.

After a few minutes he lurches up, holding a hand out to me. I reach up and grasp it and he pulls me up, so that we are both standing. "How's a Seeker's match sound to you?" He asks with a quirked eyebrow. "Bet you can't keep up."

"Challenge accepted." I growl, racing him to the broom shed.

*0*0*0*

Flying relaxed me better than anything, and competing with Potter wore me out like nothing else.

We dismounted at a tie, no clear winner.

"I'd say we played a good game." Harry says, taking our brooms to the shed and stripping off his gear.

"I'd say. I almost beat you this time!" He scoffs playfully. "I'm dead beat, though, and sweaty," I say as I wipe beads of moisture from my forehead.

"Let's head to the locker rooms, and we can clean up before dinner."

"Sounds familiar," I joke, "This is becoming a ritual."

We head into the locker room and strip off the rest of our gear in silence. Harry walks over to one of the showers and turns it on. When he goes to step in, I grab his arm.

He turns back to me, and I smirk.

Remembering his earlier words, I walk into the stall before him, and he closes the thin door behind us. The stall is secluded and it feels as if we are the center of the world, no worries or obligations, no other people.

The hot water hits our sore muscles and rises off our skin in curls of steam. I hold eye contact with him as I run my hands down my chest, the water rolling off my body.

His eyes leave mine to follow the movement of my hands. His eyes stick on the scar down my chest for a moment before moving farther down. His breath hitches when my fingers wrap around my half-hard prick, pumping it into full erection.

"This is what you wanted, right?" I ask, my voice low and sultry.

He nods eagerly, his Adam's apple bobbing furiously. His own cock has risen to attention at my ministrations.

I grab the soap off the wall behind me and start to lather my whole body, massaging sore muscles and letting out seductive moans. I couldn't get enough of Harry's reaction, the harsh breathing and mutters of, "Fuck, Draco."

I turn around and rub the bar of soap over my lower back, drifting down and over my arse, giving him a perfect view. I look over my shoulder at him as he watches my hands, his tongue flicking out over his lips. "Help me, Harry? I can't quite reach my back," I murmur, and his eyes shoot up to mine.

He takes the soap from me and starts to lather up my shoulders and back, rubbing his fingers into my sore muscles in circles. My own hand drifts back down to wrap around my cock, and I know he can see over my shoulder at what I'm doing.

He drops the bar of soap and uses his newly free hands to slide to my front, teasing my nipples. He takes one in between his fingers and pinches, causing me to arch my back into him with a needy moan.

My finger swirls over my head, and I come dangerously close to orgasm, throwing my head back onto his shoulder.

He turns me around and pushes me back against the wall. He kneels down, his own cock still a neglected-looking red, arching up against his stomach.

He pushes my hand away and replaces it with his, resting at the base of my cock. The other slips in between my legs and caresses my balls, rolling them in his palm, and I shiver in pleasure.

His hot breath comes out in puffs over the tip of my cock, dangerously close. His tongue flicks out, tracing the end of the scar on my hip, leaving a trail of gentle kisses in his wake. My eyes slide shut with a whiny keen. His tongue flicks out and dips into the slit of my cock, swirling around the head. His fingers gently pull back the foreskin, his tongue following the vein underneath down to the base and back up again.

Suddenly, he takes me into his mouth down to the root and sucks harshly. I practically scream his name, and he hums around my cock, sending more shivers of pleasure up my spine.

At this point, I'm a writhing mess, practically melting against the shower wall. It only takes a few more passes of his hot mouth and I'm coming. He doesn't move, just continues to suck me gently as I come down his throat. He releases me with a few final licks, and stands up.

I lean in and kiss him lazily, my body still weak. "Have you done this before? That was fantastic," I mumble against his mouth.

He laughs gently and turns off the water. "No, you're my first. I guess what I lack in experience I make up for in enthusiasm," He says with a chuckle.

I suddenly remember that I had left him unattended and look down at his cock. I reach down and grasp it tightly, pulling a sharp gasp from him. He doesn't last long, coming in quick spurts over my hand after only a few pulls. I smile alluringly at him and lift my hand up to my mouth, licking his come off my hand and moaning. I look into his eyes as he whimpers.

He leans in and captures my lips in a gentle kiss, tasting himself on my tongue.

His lips move against mine as he whispers against them, his fingers tracing lazily across my shoulder blades. "Draco, my love..."

I shiver against him, hoping his words meant what I think they meant. I almost let the words slip out, but I choke. He can't know, not yet. Not yet.

I swallow my confession and relax in his embrace. I was in love with Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stuff that Harry mentions happening at the party is detailed in my short one-shot called Intoxication, if you want to read it.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!
> 
> Also please follow my tumblr (potter-is-mine.tumblr.com) for updates.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
> 
> READ THIS::   
> Oh my good lord I am so sorry for forgetting about this story for the last six or so months. As an apology, I have re-written/edited the last twelve chapters. I would advise re-reading them, as they are all now edited, especially chapter 12! I did this to round out the story better, adding a bit more character development and leaving more room for the plot to develop. Thank you to those of you who have been patient with me. If I start slacking again, message me on tumblr, because I'm on there all the time and it will remind me. My tumblr is potter-is-mine.tumblr.com. Anyways, thank you for reading and please review if you want.
> 
> It's going to get a bit more plotty towards chapter fifteen, so stay tuned. this fic has been and will continue to be a weird fucking ride. There's probably only about five or six more chapters left. ~Hopefully~ they will all be posted before Christmas.
> 
> Anyways, here's a really short one (sorry) just to let you guys know that I didn't abandon this!

-Chapter 13-

My bed seems colder without Harry beside me. I toss and turn, and as usual, wake up before either of my dorm-mates. I head down to the kitchens, tickling the pear before asking the house elves for breakfast early.

They practically fall over themselves, building me a plate for two. Pastries, rolls, bacon, and eggs all pile onto a tray before I am ushered out of the kitchen and bid a good day. I note the sun is only now peaking out over the horizon as I pass an ornately painted window.

A cold voice from behind me stops me in my tracks. "Death Eater scum."

I turn slowly, tray still in my shaking hands. My eyes land on a Gryffindor Eighth year. I recognize him- he had been on the Quidditch team sixth year. I remember how he used to try and push my Slytherin teammates off their brooms by body-slamming them mid-air.

He was taller than me by a few inches, with a good two stone on me. He could probably crush me in a second.

"What did you say?" I ask, growling to try and hide the tremors in my voice. They could think what they wanted, but I wouldn't let them see how much their words affected me.

He laughs cruelly. "I know you used a love potion on Potter. There's no way someone like him could want filth like you."

I close my eyes. There is nothing I could say to him to convince him otherwise. So many people would forever view me as a Death Eater. I can't say I blame them.

"You deserve to be punished. Obviously the Ministry didn't do a good enough job, so it's left to the few of us left who don't buy your innocent facade." He sneers. "Scum like you doesn't deserve to be here."

I can't help but shiver as he advances, taking a shaky step backwards. I never used to be afraid of Gryffindor threats, but I can't quite manage to hold my head high against their insults anymore, as much as I tried to hide the way their words made me crumble.

Not when I tell myself the same things that they sneer at me.

His eyes are predatory, gleaming with a level of hate that I'd yet to see in anyone's eyes aside from the Dark Lord's.

I close my eyes, preparing myself for whatever violent penance I am about to pay, my arms tightening around the rapidly cooling breakfast tray.

"Is everything all right here?"

My eyes snap open, relief flooding in my veins at the sound of his voice. Harry walks up behind the hulking Gryffindor, a look of barely-contained anger on his face.

My aggressor's face drops, a mask of humble admiration replacing the hatred it previously held. My stomach curls in disgust.

"Of course! Me and Malfoy were just chatting," he simpers, turning his fake smile to Harry. Harry never looks at him, his eyes on my face only.

I nod slowly, walking around to his side. His arm slips around my waist protectively.

He shoots one last look of disgust towards my assailant. "Watch yourself, McLaggen."

McLaggen ducks his head, eyeing his shoes as ugly red splotches appear on his face. Harry tugs me down the hall towards our dorm without a backward glance.

When we are back safely in Harry's bed, breakfast laid out before us, he eyes me questioningly. "What was that, earlier?"

I shrug, not wanting to admit my cowardice to him.

He shakes his head. "I saw your face, Draco. I know he said something to you."

I sigh, looking down at the muffin in my hand as my fingers slowly pick it apart. "It was nothing. He was just… He saw the article in the Prophet. He said he thought I gave you a love potion."

Harry's eyebrows draw together, frustration evident in his face. "I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't really think about how the article could affect you. I grew up with the press always spinning stories about me, I guess I just got used to it. I didn't think…"

I smile at him, reaching out to rub the back of his hand gently. His hand flips over automatically, his fingers winding through mine. "It's okay. I guess we've been outed," I joke. I had no reason to push him away anymore. Everyone knew about us now; I couldn't protect him from my reputation anymore.

His face lights up, his smile like sun rays parting dark clouds. Relief fills his eyes as he leans over and kisses me. I open my lips, pulling his lower lip in between my teeth, running my tongue over it slowly. He moans into my mouth, our tongues twining together, rubbing against each other. His hand slips up into my hair, tugging gently on the strands. His wrists are strong under my fingers, cradling my head in his grip.

I pull back as his other hand starts to reach under my shirt and whisper against his lips. "I got you breakfast, and it's getting cold. I didn't walk all the way down there at 6am for nothing."

He laughs, pulling back a bit. "I've missed your snark."

I roll my eyes at him, but my insides are squirming. It had been a while since I'd felt comfortable enough with someone to joke- I had fought long and hard to change my ways of cruel humor and biting remarks. "Is that why you were always following me and starting fights? Because my snark turned you on?"

He laughs around a bit of treacle tart, his favorite. "I started the fights? As if," he says, his mouth still full of food. Once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor.

"Mmm, you didn't deny that our fights got you off," I say, laughing at his red face.

He splutters in indignation. "They- I-" He sighs, shakes his head, a guilty smile still on his lips. "Maybe a little, who knows. I probably wanted you without knowing for a while."

My eyebrows raise, surprised at his candor.

"You always did look positively sinful in your Quidditch uniform, with those tight pants..." He says, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. I giggle, trying not to choke on my mouthful of bacon.

He takes another bite of his treacle tart, his face turning contemplative. "In all honesty, I think fighting with you was a welcome distraction from Voldemort."

My skin still crawls when he says the name, but I show no evidence of my discomfort. "For me, as well. Seventh year was… bad." I don't mention that seventh year was actually my personal hell. With the Carrows, and being forced to torture first years in order to not be killed by the Dark Lord, having the Dark Lord living in the Manor, knowing that any step out of line could cost my parents their lives…

But I had been grateful Harry and his golden sidekicks hadn't been there. It meant that there was hope, that someone was out there looking for a way to stop the Dark Lord. I would never admit it, but I had hoped every night that Voldemort had been living in the Manor that Harry Potter would kill him. Because I believed he could, even when I was younger. I had never allowed doubt, because that meant the death of hope. And to me, Harry Potter always represented hope. Even now.

He smiles at me warmly, not noticing my contemplative silence. I watch as he licks the frosting off his fingers, his wide gaze oblivious to the implications of what his mouth was doing. I squirm, readjusting myself in my trousers. His eyes are guileless, wide and innocent, even after all he's seen. I can't help but lean in, kissing his frosting covered lips gently.

Whatever I did, wherever I went, I knew I could never be rid of Harry Potter. He would always be ingrained in my DNA, my skin would always hold imprints of his touch. He was a part of me, as inescapable as my own heart.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience.


End file.
